


Sânge și Ciocolată

by BelladonnaWyck, justlikeyouimagined



Series: Sânge și Dulce [1]
Category: Basic Instinct (Movies), Charlie Countryman (2013), Hannibal Extended Universe - Fandom
Genre: Angst, BasicDogs, Blowjobs, Choking, Comeplay, Creampie, Daddy Kink, Drug Use, Extremely Dubious Consent, Face Slapping, Gangbang, Gun Kink, Kidnapping, Knifeplay, M/M, Murder, Non-Consensual Bondage, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Original Male Character - Freeform, Overstimulation, Recreational Drug Use, Rough Sex, Slut Shaming, Threesome - M/M/M, Unsafe Sex, cigarette burns, sex while high, spit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-18
Updated: 2019-11-17
Packaged: 2020-10-21 04:26:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 9
Words: 44,511
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20687480
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BelladonnaWyck/pseuds/BelladonnaWyck, https://archiveofourown.org/users/justlikeyouimagined/pseuds/justlikeyouimagined
Summary: "Nigel pointed his gun square in Adam’s forehead. He could feel the divots of the steel against his brow."





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> We will try to add an ending warning note on each chapter after this first one for any major themes, but this story is dark and contains a lot of dubious consent starting from the beginning. 
> 
> Mind the tags as we update and protect yourselves, guys! Thanks for reading, and thanks to the kinkmeme for the prompt inspiration and support! <3

Nigel fucking hated being the boss sometimes, especially when being the boss meant he was awake at three in the goddamn morning killing a man. Killing was messy, and while that didn’t particularly bother Nigel, it meant he had to spend extra _time_ away from his bed. 

He didn’t mind torture, but torture took time. Which is why he found himself, in the late hours of the night, or the early hours of the morning, as it were, in his club in the center of town, pulling a man’s fingernails off one by one. 

He’d tossed all the nails from the man’s right hand off to the side, blood and little bits of skin still hanging on in a nightmarish display. 

“Richard fucking Robini. You always were a fucking cunt but at least you were a useful cunt. You know what isn’t useful? Stealing my goddamn money. You take from me and I fucking take from you, that’s how this goes,” Nigel paced as he spoke, flicking his gun through the air. The man could barely sit up straight but his eyes were razor sharp on the trajectory of the gleaming metal, following it as it arched through the air. 

“I need some fucking sleep. I have a fucking meeting with the Russians in the morning and they’re motherfuckers all the time, but especially when I’m as coked out as I’ll need to be to fucking function. And that’s all on you. I think it’s time to say goodnight, Robini. What do you think?” Nigel asked, stopping his pacing to squat in front of the miserable, trembling, sweat-soaked sack of shit he had once called his accountant. 

He gave him a kiss to his lips, salty from the sweat streaming down his face, and rose back to stand up straight. Before he could even aim his gun to put an end to this fucking awful night, a shot rang out, the sound reverberating in his right ear like an explosion; Rick crumpled forward like a puppet with cut strings, blood seeping from his forehead. 

“The fuck, Darko! You could’ve fucking hit me!” Nigel snarled and turned, meeting the unamused gaze of his partner. 

“You shouldn’t talk so damn much, Nigel. A dead man is a dead man. Besides being a fucking message to other cunts who wanna try to overstep, he’s useless to us. Let’s get his ass displayed and get the fuck home,” He grumbled, holstering his gun. “And I don’t want to hear shit from you in the morning when the fucking Russians are pissed that you’re high at negotiations again.” 

Nigel wiped a hand over his face; it came away swiped with blood and debris. “At least let me fucking clean up. Put Rick in the car and meet me out back in ten,” he said, not bothering to wait for a reply. Pivoting on his heel, he unlocked the heavy metal door at the back of the club and slipped out into the subdued pulsing of the nightclub’s back rooms.

The bathroom was the last door on the left, and it was locked. A benefit of being the boss, it seemed to Nigel, was that he wouldn’t have to wait to use the bathrooms in his own fucking club. Agitated, he slammed on the door.

_Nothing._

Again, he banged hard against the cheap particle board. The coke was making him impatient. More impatient than normal, that is. He was about to put his foot through the wood when the lock clicked and the door parted slightly from the frame.

“The fuck is there?” he demanded, pushing open the door. The bathroom was small and poorly lit - at first he thought the lithe frame bent over the counter was one of his girls. However, as his eyes adjusted to the dim light, he realized his mistake. The person before him, dressed from head to toe in black, was most definitely not a woman. And, by extension, most definitely not anyone that should be in the back of his club.

“Who the fuck are you?” he asked again, shifting to let the door slam shut behind him. 

The man ignored Nigel, leaning forward to inhale a long, thick line from off the filthy counter. He pulled up, sniffing to let the post nasal drip settle before speaking. “Towers. And _who the fuck are you?_” he asked, mimicking Nigel’s tone and inflection with surprising accuracy.

His demeanor changed suddenly when he focused in on the man before him. Whether it was because he recognized Nigel, or because Nigel was currently sprayed with bits of brain and bone, it was hard to say. 

“Jesus, I definitely need to know who you are,” he continued, sweeping his gaze over Nigel from his ink black oxfords to his ashen blond hair. A slinky smile spread over his face.

What the _actual_ fuck was this kid on? Nigel typically had a weak spot for a pretty face, but the drugs racing through his blood and his overall shitty night had him on edge. He pulled his gun before he thought it through. 

“Why the fuck are you in the staff area of my club, gorgeous?” Nigel purred, sidling forward to close the distance between their bodies. He had this _Towers_ backed up against the cracked tile of the counter within seconds, his 9mm caressing the faint stubble of the boy’s cheek. 

“You might wanna talk fast, sweetheart. I’m not a patient man, and you might be pretty but it isn’t worth the fucking hassle of keeping you breathing if you don’t tell me what I want to hear.” Nigel spoke calmly, but with finality, switching the safety off as he pushed even closer, crowding the other man so tightly that his back had to arch against the counter. 

Nigel expected a whimper, he expected pleas of mercy or to be let go. What he didn’t expect was a poorly concealed moan of arousal and the feel of a hard cock grinding against his thigh. Bold of this boy to assume Nigel wouldn’t kill him simply for showing his predilections, and bold men were either stupid or they were hiding something. 

“Who sent you?” Nigel questioned, no longer fucking around. He wrapped his palm around the boy’s neck, feeling his throat flutter wildly with his racing pulse as he squeezed, and he sat his gun in his mouth, forcing it past his lax, pouty lips. 

The boy finally caught his eye and, even though Nigel had threatened to kill him several times already in the last few minutes, the obvious lust was rampant. “Are you fucking getting off on this, motherfucker?” 

Nigel snarled and pinned the boy hard, hearing his back crack in protest from the harsh angle. Nigel was horny, the coke not flooding his system enough yet to keep him from getting hard, so he found himself responding to the wanton mess in front of him. 

He pulled the gun out just enough for it to rest on the plush outside of the man’s lips, so he could actually answer Nigel. “Your first name and who fucking sent you and maybe I’ll consider letting you blow me instead of just blowing your fucking brains out.” He let up just enough on his throat so that he could gulp in a few breaths and reply. 

“Adam. Heard you had a penchant for pretty little slutty things and I thought I’d fit right in,” The boy - Adam - actually grinned at his joke. 

“Do you even fucking know who I am, dumbass? 

“I know exactly who you fucking are, _Sir,_” He sassily replied and, if Nigel had been in any other mood, it probably would have pissed him off enough to just pull the trigger and call someone to clean up the mess. 

Instead, he found himself intrigued and confusingly aroused. Nigel was a man of vices, and he wasn’t about to turn himself down for this one if this boy was practically throwing himself at his feet. 

“I’ve decided I don’t like hearing you fucking talk, _Adam_,” Nigel growled, slipping the gun back into the warm, wetness of Adam’s mouth, saliva already coating it. “I’d rather see what other uses that quick tongue can have.” He chuckled darkly as he removed his hand completely from the boy’s throat, instead pushing down firmly on his shoulder and forcing him to his knees on the filthy bathroom floor. 

“How about you suck my fucking cock, and then we can talk about whether or not I’m going to fucking kill you and drop you in the goddamn _Dâmbovița_, or let you live to whore another day.” 

When he went to move the gun away from Adam’s mouth and to his temple instead, Adam tilted up his chin and released a small whine. 

Carefully, aware that Nigel’d clicked off the safety previously, he bared his lips and put the barrel of the gun between his teeth. Eyes locked, his tongue swept over the end of the gun, then out and down the slide. It tasted of sweat, and steel, and the lingering scent of gunpowder. With the help of whatever drug it was he’d just taken, it all made him feel like he could single handedly take on Nigel and whatever crew he had back here.

“And what do I get in return?” Adam asked, placing a wet kiss on the side of the gun, then twirling his tongue around the front sight. With some satisfaction, he noticed Nigel’s next breath hitch on the intake.

“The possibility of staying alive,” he replied, and without preamble, he shoved the gun hard into Adam’s mouth.

The sight scraped at the top of his soft palette and made him moan, as though in reflex. When he’d snuck into the back of Nigel’s club, he wasn’t exactly sure what he’d been expecting to find. Maybe a bored soldier, eager for a hit and someone to shoot the shit with. Someone that might let a couple details slip about what Adam was beginning to think was much more than just a little drug smuggling ring. He certainly hadn’t expected to confront Nigel so soon. Not this time. Not like this.

Still, fortune favors the bold. And - eyes wide, pulse jumping - he did feel especially bold.

He pulled back enough to speak. “Mmm, maybe I can sweeten up the deal a little,” he said, then lunged forward, taking the whole of the gun’s length into his mouth. He could feel the blunt edge of it knock against the back of his throat and swallowed around the intrusion. 

The rigidity of the piece allowed him some ability to suck air past the barrel, but he didn’t think either of them would appreciate that much. Eyes still on Nigel, he groped for his left hand and pulled it forward. Nigel allowed himself to be led out of curiosity, and let out a soft chuckle when Towers pulled his hand back to where it had previously been on his neck. The angle was awkward, with Adam on his knees before him, but he gave the man a firm squeeze all the same. He could practically see Adam melt in appreciation.

Then, all at once, Adam shifted. Despite the gun in his mouth, the hand on his throat, he slid out of Nigel’s grasp like a stealth cat, and spun around so he was facing away from Nigel. Sensing this was some sort of ploy to confuse or disarm him, Nigel immediately felt himself flash into fight mode. The butt of the gun pushed heavily into Towers’ slightly matted curls. 

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” he snarled.

Sensing the change in atmosphere, Adam carefully lifted his bare hands up in the air above his head. “Woah now, boss.” he reassured, “I’m just getting comfortable.”

With that, Adam sat down on his knees and began to tilt his head back into the gun. Nigel resisted at first, but sensing little danger with the man unarmed and on his knees before him, he relented. Adam smiled wide when he felt the pressure of the gun lessen. He leaned back, enough to make Nigel take a step back. Tilting his head back all the way, he opened his mouth in offering. 

“Go on, let me give you a demonstration of what this pretty little mouth is capable of.”

Incredulous, Nigel shook his head, though a sly smile touched the edges of his mouth. He stood up taller so as to be able to loom over Towers’ bent form, and slid the gun back into his waiting mouth.

“Mmmm,” Adam managed around the gun, and felt blindly around for Nigel’s other hand again. This time, Nigel was ready. He took a step closer and wrapped his free hand around the thick exposure of Adam’s neck. Like this, Adam’s head was cradled by Nigel, while Nigel’s growing cock pressed unabashedly into the back of Adam’s skull.

Nigel wanted to take some of the pressure off, unbuttoning his slacks and lowering the zipper; he rarely wore underwear so he pulled his cock out and palmed it roughly a few times, spreading pre-come all along the shaft. When he rutted forward, letting his wet tip rub against Adam’s already matted hair, the boy beneath him moaned around the metal in his mouth, sending vibrations through Nigel’s hand where it was squeezed against the expanse of his throat. 

“Fuck, you’re filthy,” Nigel grinned, rocking his hips forward a few more times to spread more fluid through the sweaty curls surrounding his dick. “I wanna see if I can feel my gun through your throat, darlin’, think you can take it that far?” Nigel cooed condescendingly, hand tightening around Adam’s neck as he held him in place, pushing the warming metal further into Adam’s lax mouth. 

He wasn’t surprised in the slightest when Adam opened up his throat like a professional cock-sucker and barely even let out a soft gag at the new intrusion. It was a dangerous game they were playing, Nigel hadn’t bothered to flip the safety back on and the rougher they got, the more likely it was that the trigger could slip and the gun go off. 

Adam had a youthful glow about him, cocksure and full of the sort of pride that only idiots or young people were able to maintain. Nigel imagined he’d never had a bad day in his life that he didn’t turn around to benefit him somehow. He had a flash, just a quicksilver image of Adam sprawled out across the gritty bathroom floor, blood seeping out and spreading in rivulets that followed the groutlines. He found he didn’t particularly want to kill the kid anymore and the image was quickly replaced with Nigel being the one on the floor, on his back while Adam rode him with an animalistic fury. 

Nigel looked down and noticed that Adam’s watery-blue eyes were locked on Nigel’s, his body fully on display and arched beautifully. Nigel could easily imagine this kid spread out on his sheets, tied at the wrists and ankles by silk scarves as Nigel took his time familiarizing himself with Adam’s body. Perhaps another time, when Nigel’s cock wasn’t fucking aching and he hadn’t shot a load in three fucking days. 

“Such a pretty fucking slut, aren’t you?” Nigel slipped one of his fingers in beside his gun, groaning at the wet heat of Adam’s mouth as he hooked his index finger into the side of the boy’s cheek and pulled, opening his mouth even wider. 

Amusement danced behind Adam’s eyes. The sight of the gun scratched at the inside of his throat, the hard edge rough inside him. But when Nigel caressed his neck - could feel the pressure move the length of the gun within his throat - there was a warm sort of pride that welled up in him. Nigel’s cock in his hair was rigid and long; he closed his eyes and imagined taking the length of Nigel instead of the gun. The image made him moan around the piece. 

Suddenly, Nigel moved from petting his bared throat to giving it a hard slap, firm enough that he nearly gagged as the gun shifted in his throat. Nigel’s hips thrust forward, pushing him further onto the barrel. It was difficult to sneak breaths from around the steel, which only served to turn him on more.

Adam palmed himself outside of his boxers. He could swear he could feel his heartbeat making his cock twitch, it felt so hard. Unable to resist, he reached forward and undid his belt, pulling his cock out from within his underwear. Balancing his arched body back on one hand, he began stroking his cock with increasing fervor.

Nigel noticed. The next slap hit Adam on the side of the face, causing the gun to knock against his molars. He felt his stomach convulse in reflex and he let out a small choking noise. 

“What do you think you’re doing, you insolent little bitch?” Nigel growled, pulling the gun unceremoniously out of Adam’s sore throat. He added another finger into his mouth, twisted his wrist so that he was holding him open by the lower jaw. The pressure pulling his jaw open ached spectacularly. He was too far gone to register the anger seething into Nigel’s words. He jerked himself faster, harder. 

Nigel smacked Adam’s cheek with the edge of his gun, hard enough to make his eyes flash open.

“You think this is about you getting off?” he asked. 

Confusion came over Adam like a tide. Wasn’t it? He looked up at Nigel, seeking to understand. He caught the tail end of Nigel’s contemptuous smirk before he watched him suck back and spit a wet wad of saliva directly into Adam’s open mouth. 

A wave of disgust ran through Adam, who flinched and tried to pull back to close his mouth. Nigel let go, allowing Adam to swivel around and wipe the excess spit from the edge of his lip. When he looked at Nigel, he didn’t try to hide his dissatisfaction. 

“What the hell?!” he said, beginning to stand up. 

Nigel pointed his gun square in Adam’s forehead. He could feel the divots of the steel against his brow. Once such a turn on, the reality of him facing the barrel of a loaded gun crashed into him and he suppressed a whimper. Carefully, he went back down on both knees. 

“You think you get to fucking decide when we’re done, gorgeous?” Nigel ridiculed. 

Adam could feel his cheeks flush with embarrassment. He’d been having fun, but the way Nigel spoke to him, he could sense the situation was getting out of his control.

“Open your mouth,” Nigel demanded. When Adam didn’t immediately comply, he smacked his cheek with the side of the gun again. “I’m not done with you. Open your fucking mouth.”

With some hesitance, Adam slowly opened up. Nigel made a show of sucking in his cheeks before spraying spit through his teeth, hitting him across the mouth and face. “Leave it there.” he warned, “Remember who the fuck I am.”

Adam seethed with humiliation, but he didn’t move his hand to wipe the spit away from his face, nor did he grab at his faltering cock. _Shit,_ he thought to himself. Just: _shit._

Nigel’s grin was predatory, more animal than man; he always tended to get a bit high on the power being the boss afforded him. “Now keep your mouth fucking open. And don’t even think of biting me or we’re going to have a fucking problem. Nod if you understand, I don’t want to fucking hear you anymore tonight,” Nigel growled, slapping Adam again when he didn’t comply immediately, hitting him so hard his head was jerked to the side. 

Adam didn’t hesitate again. He nodded silently, maintaining eye contact with Nigel if for no other reason than to glare at him reproachfully. Adam Towers didn’t get manhandled and slapped around unless he fucking asked for it, and he wasn’t enjoying the shift in the power dynamic here. 

Nigel didn’t even bother to remove his pants all the way, just fisted his already hard cock a few times before sliding in, all the way to the back of Adam’s throat, with a hand clutched in his hair hard enough that he felt some of the roots snap between his fingers. 

His pace was immediately bruising, his hips thundering punishingly into the wet, already battered mouth below him. He imagined it fucking hurt, Adam’s mouth probably bloodied and scratched up from the rough treatment of his gun; but he just didn’t fucking care. No one came into his goddamn territory and _told_ him what to do or who the fuck he was. Nigel was king of this realm and Adam would do well to learn before he found himself dead at the bottom of a fucking river. 

“Good boy, just like that. Keep your fucking throat open for me,” Nigel groaned, one hand still forcing Adam up and down on his shaft while the other hand pressed the gun to Adam’s temple, pushing into his sweat-matted curls. Nigel stepped even closer to Adam’s face, placing the sole of one shoe against the now flaccid cock hanging from Adam’s hastily opened slacks. 

Nigel pushed down harshly, he knew it couldn’t be comfortable for Adam and, sure enough, Adam began to squirm against the pain. Nigel had estimated the boy was a bit of a masochist, but it seemed he was also a control freak who only liked his pain when he was in control of it. 

“If you fucking move one more time I’m going to blow your goddamn brains out, boy. Sit still and be pretty for me while I fuck your throat,” He snarled, he could feel his own orgasm building in his groin already. He applied some more pressure to Adam’s cock and the boy whimpered around his dick, nearly choking.

“A professional cock-sucker like you should be able to take a real man’s cock better than this,” Nigel taunted him, sliding his cock all the way into Adam’s throat and holding him there firmly with his hand to the back of his head, Adam’s throat fluttering furiously around the intrusion. Nigel could feel the pre-come matting his hair as he kept him choking on his dick. He wanted to feel the convulsions so he moved his hand to Adam’s exposed throat, palm squeezing down hard enough that he could feel the outline of his cock beneath the skin.

Nigel felt his orgasm ready to boil over, and pressed the toe of his shoe a little harder into Adam’s soft cock before removing it entirely at the same time he pulled Adam off his dick and came all over his face and his reddened, abused mouth, rubbing some of it in with his thumb as it dribbled down the side of his lips. 

“Don’t you even fucking think of wiping that off. Stay where you are, if you move I’ll let my men do whatever the fuck they want with your pretty little ass. And they get pretty fucking lonely not being allowed to touch my girls when they’re on the clock, I’m sure you can imagine what sort of disgusting things they could think up for you. So be a good boy and fucking stay,” Nigel zipped up his pants and slicked a hand back through his hair, stepping away from Adam and opening the door to call out to one of the men who was supposed to be guarding the back to fucking begin with. 

“Fucking Josef, where the hell were you half an hour ago when you let some piece of shit into the back?” Nigel growled to the closest man he could see in the hallway. “Get Matty and fucking take care of this whore in the bathroom.” He looked over his shoulder to confirm Adam hadn’t moved. For his part, it appeared Adam had finally realized the severity of his situation and had decided to listen. 

“Whore?” Josef perked up. 

Nigel walked up to his lackey, looming over him to make his point. “Nothing funny, he isn’t your type anyway,” he said, watching Josef’s obvious disappointment. “Rough him up, scare him a bit, and get him out of here.”

Without looking back, Nigel made his way down the hall and out the back to handle a pissed-off Darko.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Tread fucking lightly, gorgeous. You don't know what you're dealing with."

The next day, Adam donned a pair of oversized sunglasses and a scarf, and limped out in search of Dimitri. He found him congregated outside his usual haunt with a small group of older men, casually chatting as they smoked. Adam gritted his teeth and jumped in, pulling harshly at Dimitri’s arm.

“Hey! Woah now! What the fuck, Towers?” Dimitri swore in his heavy Russian accent, but allowed himself to be pulled out of the crowd.

Adam didn’t let go of his arm until he’d successfully separated them from the rest of the group. He leaned in, his voice too pissed off to manage a whisper, “Why didn’t you fucking tell me about him?!”

Dimitri looked at him blankly. He was about to take another puff of his smoke when Adam pushed him hard against the wall. “Woah woah woah, calm down, Adam! You’re not making any sense.”

“Nigel!” Dimitri arched his eyebrows, not placing the name. “Come on, you prick, Nigel Ibanescu! The club owner you said was smuggling drugs?”

“Okay, Nigel. So the fuck what?” 

Adam huffed, then removed his sunglasses. Beneath, he sported a wickedly purpling black eye on one side and a nasty split brow on the other. When that caught Dimitri’s attention, he pulled on his scarf to show off the edges of another cluster of mottled bruises just beneath his collar. 

“Oh, myshka, your fucking face! What happened here?!" Adam looked at him, stoic, until he clued in. “Wait, _Nigel_ did that to you?! You went to see him? Who the fuck told you to do that?!”

“_You_, you son of a bitch!” Adam yelled, his voice cracking in his tender throat. Still, more quietly, he continued, “You took me to that fucking meet with Alexandros, talked about the upcoming shipment? Did you think I was just going to sit on that info?!” 

Dimitri put both his hands to his eyes and rubbed them furiously before running his fingers through his greying hair. “And you took that to mean, what? Go have a little chat about how business was coming along?! You’ve always been such a cocky, reckless boy.” 

He looked astounded at Adam’s stupidity, which only fueled Adam’s anger further. What’s more, he was giving him that look of fatherly condescension, which Adam _hated_, especially coming from Dimitri. “What do you take me for, a tackless imbecile? No, I was at his club and I -”

“- You went to his club?! Alone?” Dimitri interrupted, not bothering to hide his incredulity. 

Adam stood up a bit straighter and gave him a disdainful look. “I don’t know who else you work with, but I’m not some child that needs my hand held for a story.”

“Oh look, the little rich boy with the journalism degree thinks he’s hot shit,” Dimitri replied, holding his hands out in front of him, laughing.

This wasn’t helping Adam’s mood; he didn’t tolerate being made fun of, no less to his face. He retaliated. “Nigel must’ve thought I was alright if he was willing to fuck me at first sight...” he let the white lie hang in the stunned air. No need to elaborate on the fact that when Nigel left, Adam had very nearly started crying in front of the hired muscle. He’d felt - he still felt - deeply embarrassed that things had gone south so quickly. And that was before they’d loosened two of his teeth. 

Dimitri, thankfully, had stopped laughing. More than that though, he suddenly looked very serious. “Look, Adam - Jesus Christ - you don’t know what you’re doing. Nigel isn’t as friendly as I am with nosey Brits. You can’t just fuck every guy you want a story from. In fact, he isn’t someone you fuck around with at all.”

Adam brushed off the seriousness of his warning with a smirk. “Why Dimitri, is someone jealous?” Adam stepped forward, crowding the other man into the building. “We could have a little fun again too, if you wanted…” he cooed, trying to seem sexy with a face covered in fresh bruises. 

The other man shoved Adam off of him with considerable force, and Adam almost lost his balance. He laughed at the intensity of Dimitri’s reaction. “You’re a prick, Adam." Dimitri said, a hint of endearment coloring his voice. "An idiot and a prick.”

Adam stood for a time, his fingers scratching at the uncomfortable stubble that was growing in after he’d failed to prepare himself the night before. He wouldn’t share this, but he was lucky he’d made it back to his apartment at all, considering how fucked he’d still been from the drugs and the beat down. 

“Look, it’s done. Now are you gonna give me some more info on those guys, or do I have to go back tonight?”

Dimitri shook his head, but motioned for Adam to follow him inside. 

“Towers, this isn’t your little boarding school crew, alright? Nigel Ibanescu is serious fucking business. He’s - how do you fucking English say - top dog.” Dimitri snapped his fingers. “He owns the entire goddamn city and you’d be smart to stay off his radar,” Dimitri lit up a cigarette and started puffing on it like it was an anchor. 

“You were fucking stupid to go after him on your own. I didn’t expect you to just fucking walk into his club without an invite. The club is a front for his guns trade, a lot of the money goes through there. I thought you were fucking smart, subtle,” he rubbed his face with his free hand. “How the hell are you even alive? Popescu won’t even come for Nigel directly.” 

Adam had known Nigel was bad news, but even he could admit that he had been a bit rash in his approach. Him showing up in the restroom, splattered in blood and gore, made a lot more sense now. 

“I thought he was just some sleazy fucking club owner, pushing drugs and guns on the side,” Adam sighed, shifting uncomfortably. He was pretty sure he had a fracture in his wrist and his entire body felt swollen and bruised. He’d still been spitting up blood when he woke up bleary-eyed and in massive pain that morning. 

“Adam, I want to get my piece of the trade in Bucharest, it’s why I came down here from Russia in the first place, but that shit won’t happen over a pile of dead civilian bodies.” Dimitri chuckled darkly. He pulled out his wallet and tossed a few notes at Adam. “Get on the first fucking train, plane, whatever out of the city. You don’t belong here.” 

Adam scoffed, letting the bills hit the ground between them. “I don’t need your fucking money, Dimitri. I’ll leave when I get my story. I didn’t come all the way to Bucharest to run off with my tail tucked. You can either help me, or stay out of my way. 

***

Two days later found Adam limping through the city, his lip still swollen and split open and his violent purple bruises slowly turning yellowed at the edges. He heard the voice before he saw its owner and his blood turned cold. He snapped his head to the side and saw Nigel at a table with two other men, clearly talking business. 

Fury coursed through Adam and he turned on his heel, unable to stop himself from the confrontation he knew was about to happen. Adam liked a lot of things, including some of the kinky ass shit he’d gotten into with Nigel. What he didn’t like was when shit went sideways and he lost control. Adam was _always_ in control. 

“Hey, you fucking cunt!” he shouted as he approached the table, ignoring the other men as he focused solely on Nigel fucking Ibanescu. “I’d like a fucking word,” Adam snarled, squaring his shoulders and grimacing through the ache. He still felt like one massive bruise. 

“Who the fuck - “ Nigel stopped mid-sentence, a cruel smile on his lips. “Ah, the little whore from the other night.” He looked at his companions with a wink, “Best fucking cock-sucker in the city, this one. He’s got a beautiful goddamn mouth when he’s not fucking running it off,” at that the men with him laughed along with him and Adam’s cheeks pinkened at the humiliation.   
“What can I do for you, cocksucker?”

“It’s just too bad you have to hold people at _gunpoint_ to get your dick sucked, huh?” Adam shot back, the mood shifting immediately between the two men sitting with Nigel. The man himself, however, didn’t seem bothered in the slightest. 

His eyes slid away from Adam as though he wasn’t even there, simply a pesky gnat that had been swatted away, and he returned to his conversation in Romanian. The other two men followed suit, ignoring Adam as he fumed mere inches away from them. 

"I said," Adam seethed, stepping in between Nigel and another man, "I'd like a fucking word." 

Nigel looked at Adam with renewed interest. Who the fuck was this kid? Considering for a long moment, he finally motioned for the men to leave, speaking what sounded like some sort of orders in Romanian. The two got up, one of them rather disdainfully at being shooed off for some kid that couldn't have been older than twenty-three.

Somewhat gingerly, Adam took one of the men's seats. "Who is Cardano and why do you have a meeting with him tomorrow at your club?" He launched into his questioning without preamble.

Nigel eyed him with increasing intensity. "What the fuck are you talking about?"

"Or would you like to tell me about where the Robini twins disappeared to after what, by all accounts, was a botched meeting with your crew?"

His brows furrowed and he sucked back hard on his smoke. He made a gesture towards Adam with the lit end. "Who did you say you were again?"

"Suddenly I'm more than some 'little cocksucker to you? What happened with the shipment that the Robinis were scheduled to deliver?" Adam pressed on.

"Your fucking name, kid. What is it?" 

The tone made Adam stop. "Adam Towers."

_"Adam Towers,"_ Nigel said, leaning in close to breathe what came next into his face. "You're so far over your fucking head, I'm surprised you're not drowning in the Dâmbovița."

Adam didn't miss a beat. He leaned forward onto his forearms and lowered his voice, "Is that where the Robinis are, then? Did the guy you were covered in the other night have anything to do with them?" 

He was fishing, weaving connections where there weren't any, but neither Dimitri or Alexandros had given him enough to go off and he needed to impress upon Nigel that he wasn't just some whore he'd made suck his cock for shits and giggles. He needed to show him that, at the very least, he should be wary of who he chooses to have beat up in the future.

Nigel took another drag of his cigarette and moved forward, mimicking Adam's lean. Then, as though he were moving in slow-motion, Adam watched while with one hand Nigel gripped tightly onto Adam’s wrists, while with the other hand he brought the cigarette down onto the tender skin of his forearm.

The pain was white hot, and he immediately tried to pull away, but Nigel's grip held. He held the embered end down loosely onto Adam's skin, close enough so it seared through the flesh, the ash pushing up around the edges, but not so hard to put the smoke out entirely. Very quickly, the smell of burning skin and hair rose up from his arm.

Adam suppressed a cry from behind his clenched jaw and watched, horrified, as he was burned. Finally, in an act of desperation, he kicked out hard and connected with Nigel's shin.

Nigel let go and swore in Romanian. He stood up, placing his weight carefully onto the leg. His lip curled in anger as he towered over Adam, who clapped his hand tightly over the wound.

"Tread fucking lightly, gorgeous. You don't know what you're dealing with." With that, he pivoted on his heels and walked away.

***

Adam had never been one to follow the rules, he considered them bendable when it suited him. And he certainly wasn’t one to be told what to do. 

Both Dimitri and Nigel himself had warned him off, but Adam _knew_ he could close this story if he pushed hard enough. His parents wouldn’t be able to scoff or roll their eyes at his career choice when he broke a story big enough to start paying for _their_ fucking bills instead of the other way around. Besides, his last meeting with Alexandros had given him a bad feeling, like he was no longer being given the option of taking Alex’s help where it concerned Nigel. He chewed his lip at the thought, then dismissed it.

Dimitri hadn’t really encouraged compliance anyway, slipping Adam intel that there was a big meetup happening tonight at the club. Which was how Adam found himself standing at the back entrance of Nigel’s club, having already been denied entry by the bouncers when he tried going through the front. Apparently they didn’t let ‘English whores’ into their fucking elite strip club. 

Tenacious as always, Adam had weaved his way through garbage and slurring drunks in a seedy alleyway between buildings and found his way into the back side of the club. There was a guard here too, but more than that, there was Nigel. 

Nigel, who completely ignored Adam as he literally had to brush by him to walk into the club. Nigel who didn’t even raise his head to look at Adam, and didn’t respond to him when Adam shouted for him. Nigel who was surrounded by an entourage like he was Mick fucking Jagger or some shit. He was even wearing a midnight blue suit that was perfectly tailored, a crisp white shirt underneath and black Italian leather dress shoes. His hair was swept back with a loose fringe. He had no right to be so attractive. 

“What a fucking dick,” he grumbled to no one in particular, the beefy guard running security surely wasn’t going to respond. 

Adam decided he’d lurk. He wasn’t above good old fashioned stalking to get a story, had done it plenty when he’d been writing for the school newspaper. He pulled up a crate that looked like it could give up the ghost at any moment, and daintily sat on the edge. It held. 

He stared at the guard the entire time but the man didn’t even acknowledge his existence. No one acknowledged him, that is, until the man he knew to be Darko - Nigel’s partner - showed up. 

“Motherfucker,” the man mumbled under his breath, running an exasperated hand over his face when he caught sight of Adam perched as he turned the corner. “You must be fucking crazy, kid. Take some advice and get the fuck outta town. If I see your fucking face crowding my club again, I won’t hesitate to shoot it off. And I don’t mean with a playful come-shot like my idiot partner. Understood?” 

He didn’t touch Adam, but it felt almost like a physical push. The glimpse of the guns tucked obviously in a double holster across his shoulders certainly helped Adam understand the seriousness of his threat. 

Stubborn as always, Adam still sat for another five minutes before he decided to clear out. He’d just try again tomorrow. And the next day, and the next. Eventually, Nigel would have to fucking talk to him. He couldn’t ignore him forever, especially if he made himself enough of a nuisance. It was finding the perfect line of being annoying without being annoying enough to get killed that Adam now found himself dancing along.

“Have a _wonderful_ night,” Adam bowed sarcastically at the guard before clutching his coat more closely to his shoulders and bracing himself for the walk home.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “This is how this is going to go, little cock-sucker,” Nigel leaned in close, shifting the knife so that it was caressing Adam’s right ear, the same ear Nigel was speaking in. “You’re going to do whatever the fuck I tell you to, you aren’t going to ask questions, you won’t say no, and I might leave here without turning your fucking apartment into a bloodbath.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! We promised we would warn you when things really started to heat up, and this chapter is the beginning of a downhill race of dubcon bordering heavily on non-con, a lot of slut-shaming and just general badness. Mind the tags, and if you have specific questions please reach out and we will be happy to give more specific warnings.

Adam hated Bucharest when he first arrived. It was quaint in a way that made his skin crawl; he had craved to be back in the filthy, pulsing energy of London. But over the weeks it had grown on him: some areas, like the one with Nigel’s club, came alive at night. He couldn’t deny the architecture was breathtaking and, mostly, the people were friendly enough. 

He was staying in a one-bedroom apartment above a shisha bar that doubled as a restaurant he was sure existed solely for the purpose of money laundering, but the owner was friendly and mostly left Adam to himself. 

He walked up the two flights of creaky stairs and was surprised to find his door already unlocked when he tried his key. 

Stepping in warily, he entered what looked to be an empty apartment. Nothing was out of place; windows shut, lights off, notes strewn about the same way he’d left them before heading to the club. 

He looked around for a weapon and made a beeline to the kitchen to grab the largest knife in the block. Not that he’d really know what to do with it, or even if he was capable of doing anything. Adam didn’t exactly have a reputation for being the tough guy on campus. Maybe most likely to fuck the tough guy, though. That should have counted for something, but as he stood in his kitchen, his hand trembling slightly, he cursed himself for not having had Dimitri or any number of other men he’s spent time with teach him the basics of self-defense.

Heart pounding, he moved slowly through the kitchen, past the living room, and towards the bedroom. He entered the room blade-first, as though any intruder might stupidly be standing just inside the darkness. Taking his cue from crime dramas, he pivoted rapidly back and forth, inspecting the empty room. 

After a brief inspection of the closet, he double-checked that the windows were still locked, and finally, put down the knife. 

Within seconds, his arm was wrenched behind his back and he was slammed into the wall of his bedroom. His feet were kicked wide, and he stumbled, grinding his face hard into the exposed brick. 

“Don’t know when to stop, do you, my little cock sucker?” Nigel hissed, twisting his arm back so far Adam let out a whimper of pain. Adam’s full bladder twinged in fear. “I told you to stay away. Are you just too fucking greedy for my cock to listen to reason?”

Nigel shifted, pressing his obvious erection into the ass of Adam’s jeans. His stomach knotted. His cock, meanwhile, jerked in betraying appreciation.

“What the fuck is all that in your little notebooks? You writing a fucking book about me or something? What did I fucking tell you about remembering who the hell you’re dealing with?” Nigel’s teeth were pressed to Adam’s nape. He felt overwhelmed. 

He tried to whimper out a reply but Nigel shook him roughly, slamming him more forcefully back into the wall. “I didn’t say you could fucking talk.” 

He heard the tell-tale sound of Nigel undoing his belt, then strong hands were tugging on his own pants, tearing them down over his hips. 

“You need to leave, kid. You wouldn’t last a fucking day in my world.” Nigel ripped down Adam’s boxers, but they snagged on his semi-erect cock. Nigel let out an unbelieving chuckle. “_Futu-ți dumnezeii mă-tii_, this is turning you on?”

Adam pressed his groin into Nigel’s hand in response. Nigel spun him around and slapped him hard across the cheek. He stumbled over, his hand immediately coming up to cover  
where it burned. 

“Honestly? I’m seconds away from pissing myself.” Adam answered truthfully, but then managed a slight shrug. “But I won’t apologize for eclectic tastes.”

Nigel let out a low whistle and took a step back. He’d been baffled when he’d caught sight of him outside of the club earlier in the evening, after what he’d done to him. He found himself shaking his head at the man for the second time in one night. 

“You’re fucking crazy, you know that?” 

“I like to think I’m open for life’s adventures,” Adam corrected, finally taking his hand from off of his smarting cheek.

He knew control lurked just outside of his grasp; he was close enough to smell it. He just needed not to fuck up now and he might be able to regain some composure. 

“Have you ever tried asking for sex instead of demanding it?” Adam asked, taking a hesitant step towards Nigel. 

Nigel’s lip twitched at the insinuation, regardless of how it rang true. The two of them stared at each other, anticipating their next moves. Adam’s heart was thundering in his ears, the _whoosh whoosh whoosh_ drowning out the usual din of the neighborhood.

When Nigel didn’t make a move, Adam took another step forward, this time more confidently. Keeping his eyes locked, he pulled his pants and boxers down the rest of the way, stepping out of them. He removed his shirt and stood there before Nigel, naked. He could spin this encounter, he thought. He almost had it.

Unexpectedly, Nigel burst out laughing. “You think you’re some sort of slutty gift, cock-sucker? Think I need to come here and take you? That there isn’t a fucking line up of cocks and cunts waiting for me, whenever I want?” Nigel laughed again. 

The heat rose to Adam’s cheeks and his stomach clenched. Without reprieve, he didn’t bother to try to hide, no matter how much he wanted to.

Nigel cut through the remaining space between them. He grabbed Adam’s cheeks between his thumb and fingers, pinching tight. “You’re fucking nothing, cock-sucker.” he snarled. “You have no idea how worthless you are to me.”

There was a moment, a brief space in time, where they stood frozen and looking at each other. It was broken by Nigel tossing Adam back against the harsh, gritty brick of the wall. It was crumbling in places, and he felt some fall upon impact. He grunted in pain, the brick scraping against his already bruised, sore skin.

Adam barely even saw the motion - Nigel moved so quickly - but suddenly there was a knife. The same fucking knife he’d grabbed for self-defense was now pressed against his throat. He could smell the coppery scent of wet pennies left too long in the sun; Nigel had cut him. 

“The fuck, Nigel!” he shouted, but he didn’t move for fear of the man cutting any deeper. He could tell it was only a surface scratch, barely enough blood to even bother with. He’d had worse doing far less extreme shit. Still, he arched himself back and tilted his head up in an effort to relieve the pressure of the blade against his skin.

“This is how this is going to go, little cock-sucker,” Nigel leaned in close, shifting the knife so that it was caressing Adam’s right ear, the same ear Nigel was speaking in. “You’re going to do whatever the fuck I tell you to, you aren’t going to ask questions, you won’t say no, and I might leave here without turning your fucking apartment into a bloodbath.”

Nigel moved the knife down his throat, flicking it against both of his nipples before trailing it down his chest, along his sparse trail of hair and ending with a light tap to the top of his shaft. 

Adam barely breathed as he waited to see what Nigel would do next. He knew the man could gut him in seconds or slit his throat. But he really didn’t think that was how Nigel wanted this encounter to end. Adam could take the abuse, but he wasn’t going to be happy about it. Control had yet again been wrenched from his grasp. 

“Nothing to say, huh? Finally.” Nigel grinned and he used the knife to guide Adam to turn around, forced his hands to the wall and held them in place with his own calloused palms, the knife was sandwiched between their right hands. Nigel ground his hips into Adam’s plush ass, letting his cock slip between his cheeks and catch on his hole a few times. 

“Lube - where is it? Speak fast, or I’m taking you fucking dry,” Nigel growled, biting down hard enough to leave a ring of teeth marks on Adam’s freckled right shoulder. 

“I bet you say that to all your girls,” Adam deadpanned as he wriggled to relieve the tension in his bitten shoulder. Nigel didn’t seem to find it funny; he moved his left hand down to spread open one side of Adam’s ass, exposing him further as he rutted against him, the tip of his cock just barely pressing in. 

“Bedside drawer!” Adam volunteered the information readily, really not willing to take a cock without any sort of lubrication. Not even his first time taking a cock in his ass had been that poorly planned, he didn’t intend on starting lazy sex practices now. 

“That was hardly fast, little slut, but I’m a generous man. Don’t fucking move,” he snarled, the knife in his hand cutting a careless, thin line along Adam’s hip as Nigel pulled back in search of the lube. 

He found it within seconds and took his place behind Adam once more. When he pushed him more firmly against the wall, both of his forearms laying flat against the exposed brick, Adam let out a hiss of pain as his newly acquired cigarette burn caught against the jagged edges of the grout. 

He could feel Nigel’s grin, all fucking teeth, against his neck as he laughed darkly. “You like having my marks all over your body, baby? You really were the perfect little cock-sucker. Let’s see if all of your holes are as good,” Without hesitation, Nigel spilled out lube all over his fingers and applied it to the outside of Adam’s entrance, letting one wet finger slide in past the muscle. 

Adam choked back a groan, he liked it rough but he preferred at least a little foreplay first. It seemed Nigel wasn’t of the same opinion. “Fuck, are you sure you’re not a goddamn virgin? You ever had a real man’s cock fuck up into this sweet little hole, darlin’?” 

Nigel’s voice was taunting and cruel as he teasingly ran his finger lightly, far too briefly, over Adam’s prostate before pulling out entirely and applying the remaining lube to his cock. He kicked Adam’s feet apart again, causing his back to arch almost painfully, and put his lube-soaked fingers in Adam’s mouth, hooking into his cheek and keeping his lips parted wide. 

Without preamble, he thrust his thick cock roughly into Adam’s hole. With so little preparation, it burned like dying embers of a fire, and he involuntarily tensed around Nigel’s cock. 

“Fuck, yeah, do that again,” Nigel spoke into Adam’s ear. When Adam tried instead to relax in order to reduce the burning friction, he moved the knife so the edge rested at the base of his throat. The blade was warming from his skin, but it still sent icy shivers through his body feeling it so close to his pulsing arteries.

“I said do it again,” Nigel warned, pressing the blade in just a fraction further so it sliced through the first layers of skin. Adam’s entire body tensed, including his hole, and Nigel made an appreciative noise.

Like their last encounter, Adam’s erection was faltering. Nigel’d fucked in enough that he was growing looser by now, but the pain hadn’t subsided into pleasure yet. The distraction of the knife’s edge was too sharp, the humiliation of being forced into this position too substantial, he could squeeze out none of the pleasure he thought he might eventually be rewarded. Nigel seemed to have a way of recognizing Adam’s limits and barreling past them, no looking back.

Meanwhile, Nigel was growing increasingly more agitated behind him. He’d come here to scare the little shit the only way he thought might still get through to him, and from the pained expression painted over Adam’s face, he reckoned he was achieving his goal gloriously. After one particularly brutal thrust, he should have relished in the small sob that escaped his reticent partner. This was working. What’s more, Adam’s young ass felt magnificent. All friction gone, he was able to thrust smoothly into the hilt and pull practically all the way out again and again and again. 

By all accounts, he should be feeling fucking spectacular. 

Frustrated, he pulled out and pressed himself, sweaty and panting, into Adam’s back. “I’m going to let you go. You run and I cut you, understood?”

Adam nodded, more frantically than he’d intended. As Nigel had been fucking into him, his thoughts had begun to race with the increasing speed of his pulse. He couldn’t concentrate, could only think in flashes of emotions. Rage, desperation, embarrassment. They blended together inside his mind and left him feeling immobilized. He couldn’t have run even if he’d tried.

Nigel flopped down onto Adam’s bed - _his_ bed - and motioned for him to follow. “You fuck like a lazy woman.” Nigel spat, literally, onto Adam’s sheets. “Come over here and show me how you really take a cock.”

Adam’s legs felt like lead. Nigel lazily propped himself up on his elbows and fingered the end of the blade with his other hand. He arched an eyebrow in inquiry. “Well?”

_Well._ With monumental effort, Adam moved slowly over. “Put the knife down,” he whispered, his mouth a desert, just before he got onto the bed.

Nigel chuckled. “Sit on my cock and we’ll see about me taking any orders from you, gorgeous little shit.”

Adam shook as he moved himself to straddle the older man. With a single shallow breath, he positioned himself and sunk down, the sweat mixing with lube to slide him all the way onto Nigel’s cock in one fluid motion. He couldn’t help himself, he shuddered when he began to move. He looked away; anywhere but at Nigel. 

But Nigel could see him, could see the watery blue of his eyes as his gaze darted to every corner of the room. This, this was better than fucking him against the wall, he thought. This’ll fucking do it, he told himself.

The boy’s hips swiveled and shifted expertly; here was a boy that knew how to fuck. Still, he couldn’t ignore the way his supple body trembled, the way his breath was coming in hitches whenever he couldn’t hold his feelings in. 

Well, _fuck._

Nigel threw the knife across the room, far out of either of their reaches. Adam looked down at him, confused, not daring to stop moving. He grabbed Adam by the shoulders and whipped him off his cock, shoving him brutally onto the bed. 

“Jesus, gorgeous, calm down,” he said, positioning himself between Adam’s legs. Adam scrambled up onto his forearms, wincing as he hit bruises in the process. He let out an audible gasp when Nigel leaned down and took his soft cock fully into his mouth.

“Fuck,” Adam whimpered, trying to buck his hips up into the welcoming heat, but Nigel had his hips pinned with one muscled arm strewn across them. Adam could feel himself responding, _a reflex,_ he assured himself. He let himself entertain the idea that he didn’t want this for a moment before dismissing it entirely. It wasn’t the sex he didn’t want, it was just the rest of the entire fucking situation. 

When he’d first been pressed against the wall, he’d imagined how he might spin the situation in his favor. How he would sway Nigel away from this little game at trying to scare him and show him how badly he really wanted Adam. Adam had wanted Nigel begging, scrambling to please him, like so many men before him. He had wanted to work Nigel’s anger to a simmer, then work the man himself to his knees. He’d be sweaty and covered in come and still desperate for more. He had wanted to feel Nigel leaking down his thighs as he still tried to fuck into him with a softening cock just because he couldn’t get enough. 

But Nigel wasn’t one of the men from school, from university. He wasn’t going to beg, or whimper or grow wanton. He was going to pull a knife and thrust in and fuck into Adam without further consideration. Or at least, that’s how it had seemed, and why Adam had felt the panic growing stronger in his gut. But now? Now he wasn’t sure what was happening. Only that despite himself, this felt _good_. Nigel sank all the way down to the base of Adam’s rapidly filling cock, not even a hint of a gag reflex. Adam decided that maybe if this were his reward, he could start to learn to enjoy Nigel’s brand of control. 

If Adam was a star cock-sucker, Nigel certainly wasn’t far behind. He had Adam’s knees trembling within minutes as he grew fully hard in Nigel’s throat, desperate to move his hips for more friction but still unable to move with Nigel’s weight on him. 

Nigel never broke eye contact, watching Adam’s face the entire time. Soon enough he could see that stubborn flame reignite in that sharp blue gaze and he knew he’d managed to get the boy interested, even though he was clearly conflicted about allowing himself to enjoy it. 

He let Adam move his fingers tentatively into his hair, just holding, not moving him. He rewarded that good behavior with another twirl of his tongue around Adam’s head, flicking his tongue beneath his foreskin as he pulled off nearly all the way. 

“Taste so sweet, baby,” Nigel observed before sinking back down, letting Adam’s cock glide against his inner cheek, just a hint of teeth. It made Adam shudder.

He whined, long and low in his throat and tossed his head back, arching his neck and exposing the pale flesh of his throat. His fingers were gripped in the sheets, nearly yanking them from the corners of the bed. 

He bit down so harshly on his lip that he tasted blood in his mouth and when he looked back down at Nigel, their eyes met. Nigel looked nearly feral, his need obvious as he ground his own hips down into the mattress while wrapping his lips more firmly around Adam’s cock and _sucking_. 

Adam felt two fingers tease along his sloppy, wet entrance and he bared down on them with as much force as he could, moaning as they slipped inside and immediately _twisted_, Nigel’s thumb applying pressure from the outside to his prostate as his fingers brushed it mercilessly from within. 

“Fuck, Nigel, please,” He groaned, not sure what he was begging for, but just knowing he needed it. 

“You’re such a beautiful little whore for me, hm?” Nigel grinned against Adam’s cock, flicking his tongue out playfully as he let it slip from his mouth, pre-come shining on his lips like gloss. 

“Alright, darlin’, you can either ride me like the pro we both know you are, or you can let me pound you into the mattress until you can’t even remember your own fucking name. I’ll let you pick, but either way, you aren’t coming until I’m finished with you.” Nigel growled as he shifted back onto his knees in a kneeling position, forcing Adam’s legs even wider apart as he took himself in hand and stroked lazily up and down his own shaft, pre-come slipping out of the tip and coating his fingers.

Adam looked over at the knife where it had clattered to the floor, just a quick glance, but Nigel caught it. “No more knives?” Adam asked, voice placatingly soft. He was teasing Nigel, and Nigel knew it. But he’d play along for now. 

“Be a good boy and we won’t need them,” Nigel agreed, leaning down to bite painfully hard into the bruise already forming around his earlier mark. 

Adam let out a simpering whine that served only to incense Nigel. He didn’t wait for Adam’s choice. He pushed up on Adam’s legs, finding them pliant. Folding him over, he lined himself up and slammed in with brutal force. 

The angle was perfect, he could feel his cockhead rubbing against Adam’s silken insides on every stroke. The heat of him was overwhelming; now that it was plain both of them were enjoying themselves, he could feel the pleasure rapidly building inside him. Leaning over to fold Adam into himself, he let restraint go and started fucking in wildly.

Adam could barely move like this, though now he wasn’t feeling nearly as panicked as he had been just minutes ago against the wall. Nigel was still using him, still fucking him so roughly that he worried it would aggravate his limp when he tried to stand, but this time it was only serving to turn him on. 

He wove his hand through the mess of his own limbs to circle his cock with his fist and started jerking himself in time with Nigel’s frantic movements. Without the pain, without the shame of being fucked like a hole, Adam could appreciate the girth which Nigel impaled him on. He ached from the fullness. He thought about how his cock must be jostling his insides with every jab and whimpered loudly.

That was it - he was getting too close. “Stop. Stop, stop!” he said with increasing urgency, letting go of his prick and trying to push Nigel off him.

Nigel, lost in his own desires, was slow to respond. “I’m going to come!” Adam made it perfectly clear his intentions. Nigel snarled and pulled out.

Adam unwound himself, panting. His cock was aching, his hole felt a gaping emptiness without Nigel there. They looked at each other for a long moment, catching their breath.

Finally, Adam summoned his regular courage and placed his hand onto Nigel’s clothed chest, pushing him over. Nigel looked at him with amused curiosity.

“You didn’t let me choose.” His voice was smooth, nearly back to his regular slinkiness. He let out a small chuckle in response to Nigel’s own.

He prowled over Nigel, climbed onto his cock that was still sticking out from his boxers, then sank down. He set a slow, undulating pace, his hips rocking and keeping Nigel’s hard cock deep inside him. The friction of Nigel’s denim on his inner thighs burned, but in a way that heightened the experience. 

The pressure all along his shaft teased Nigel desperately and soon he had gripped hard onto Adam’s hips and was fucking into his wet hole, seeking release. One particularly swift swivel did it and he was pulsing up into Adam’s insides.

The two of them groaned in concert, Nigel with satisfaction and Adam with the knowledge that he might now be able to come. With a wicked smirk down at the older man, he lifted himself off of his cock while fisting his own. Nigel felt his seed sloppily drip down onto his cock and boxers. Moments later, Adam thrust into his hand before going completely rigid, then came over Nigel’s now-rumpled shirt. 

“Fucking _bulangiu_,” Nigel cursed, looking down at his heaving chest, now covered in come. Instantly, Adam was on his back, and Nigel positioned himself to loom over him. He swiped at a broad swath of cooling liquid from his chest, then shoved his fingers into Adam’s mouth without ceremony. “Fucking ruined this shirt. My fucking pants.”

Adam ignored his complaints, swirling his tongue around his fingers, eagerly accepting his penance. He grinned up at Nigel as he took three fingers in to suck them far back into his throat. 

“Too fucking smug, cock-sucker,” Nigel growled, pulling his hand out of Adam’s willing mouth. 

This time when he reached down, it wasn’t to swipe at his clothing. His fingers moved swiftly to Adam’s hole, and he dipped two hooked digits in, pulling out the last wad of his thick come. He eyed the semi-frothed offering, then looked to Adam with a smirk. Immediately, Adam’s face turned from cocksure to remotely disgusted. Smiling in earnest now, Nigel pushed his fingers once again into Adam’s mouth. 

Adam tried to push down the natural instinct to bite at the intrusion, but even so, he still managed to grind his back teeth together and catch Nigel’s finger between them. 

Nigel hissed and yanked his fingers to the side, hooking painfully into Adam’s already sensitive and abused cheek. “Fucking swallow it, Adam,” Nigel growled, and it was the use of his given name that made Adam obey. Nigel had never referred to him by his name before and the tone was sharp, enough to cause a whimper to fall from Adam’s stretched lips. 

He whined when Nigel wrapped his fingers aggressively in his curls, adding a third finger to his mouth and forcing him to deepthroat them so roughly that Adam actually couldn’t suppress his gag reflex, making pitiful coughing cries by the time Nigel finally pulled out. 

“Keep your fucking mouth open,” Nigel snarled, sinking two of his fingers back into Adam’s sloppy hole and applying pressure to his prostate. Adam obeyed, keeping his mouth wide open and he tried to stay totally still even as Nigel spit into his mouth and then removed his fingers from Adam’s ass and slammed them back past his lips, rubbing the spit into his teeth and tongue like some obscene lubricant. 

Nigel leaned down and caught Adam’s swollen, bleeding lip between his teeth and bit down hard enough to draw more blood to the surface, enough so that Adam could taste it spilling back into his own mouth. 

“You need to learn your fucking place, darlin’,” Nigel moved back to sit on his knees and then stepped off the bed entirely to remove his clothes. “I think I was being too soft with you, huh? You need me to remind you who’s fucking in charge here,” Nigel got back onto the bed, flattening Adam out and climbing over him, sitting his ass down directly onto Adam’s face, causing him to immediately claw at Nigel’s hips to try and dislodge him so he could breathe. 

“Put your goddamn hands on the bed and don’t fucking move unless I tell you,” Nigel leaned forward, rubbing his ass against Adam’s mouth, still blocking his air. Adam had gone still at the threat, but he started to flail as the seconds ticked by and eventually he _needed_ to breathe. 

Nigel grabbed Adam’s flaccid cock in a painfully tight grip, brushing his balls with his fingertips. “Be a good little slut and let me play with you a little,” he taunted as he leaned forward to lick at Adam’s dick, spitting on it to lube it up before he tightened his fist and started to drag it up and down his soft shaft, still too dry and too soon after his orgasm to be comfortable. 

Nigel lifted himself up for a few seconds, grinning as he listened to Adam gulping in desperately, and then he ground his hips back down and moaned at the wet warmth he was met with. He slipped two fingers back into Adam and twisted them up, using his thumb to press against his prostate from the outside while he battered the swollen nub from the inside as well. 

“I think you can come for me again, can’t you? And this time you’ll come when I fucking tell you and where I tell you,” Nigel shifted around on Adam’s face, making sure to keep his mouth and nose completely covered so that the boy was desperate. He kept up his cruel pace on Adam’s cock while simultaneously brutally pounding against his prostate. 

Adam’s thighs were quivering below Nigel and he chuckled darkly as he moved further forward to bite at the exposed flesh of his inner thighs. He clamped down hard and when he pulled away there was a bright red ring mark of his teeth. He felt Adam trying to squirm beneath him, gasping when Nigel shifted enough to let him take in a few gulps of air. 

“Does that feel good, baby? You like when I mark you up? I want you to fucking come again for me,” Nigel sat back up, putting most of his weight on Adam’s face. As he continued to move up and down his shaft, he could feel the heat radiating into his palm from the friction, the spit he’d used to smooth the way completely gone by now.

Adam made an abrupt whimpering noise, blocked by Nigel grinding into him. The way Adam’s tongue flicked at his rim, the way it would sometimes slide inside so he might open his mouth wide and sneak a stale breath, it all felt distantly good to Nigel. More satisfying than pleasurable was the knowledge that should he decide, he could snuff the boy out just like this, and Adam would be too deprived of air, he’d be too frantic and weak to do much about it, 

Adam’s legs shook nearly constantly as Nigel continued to stroke his half-hard prick and he began to writhe in a desperate attempt to get away. The feeling of his nails digging into his thighs served to spur him on. After a brief reprieve for Adam to breathe, he sat back fully on his face, his thighs squeezing like a vice around the boy’s head. 

Soon, the noises coming from beneath him were more than whimpers: they escalated to panicked moans of desperation. Adam twisted, trying to release himself from Nigel’s rough grasp while pushing on his ass to try to sneak another quick breath. For his efforts, Nigel grasped Adam’s cock with one hand and used the other to deliver three sharp taps to his balls. Adam let out a guttural noise from under him. He took mercy and let up, for only a brief moment, before squishing him back down.

“There’s one way you’re getting more air,” Nigel said, slowly rubbing the palm of his hand over Adam’s bright red head. “And that’s if you come for me.”

Adam twitched, bucking wildly as Nigel held firm. He counted from the last snuck breath, alternatively stroking and rubbing Adam’s tortured prick. Ten seconds. Twenty. At nearly forty, Nigel considered giving the boy a break, when suddenly Adam thrust up violently and went still. A pitiful amount of come seeped out of his abused slit and Adam groaned in agony. Nigel sighed appreciatively before rubbing the slick like a salve over his cock.

He sat up and twisted to get himself off of Adam, who immediately turned onto his side into a fetal position, taking gasping, coughing breaths that filled his wheezing lungs. 

“There now,” Nigel said, digging a crumpled pack of smokes from his back pocket and lighting one up. “I knew you could listen. There’s hope for you yet, cock-sucker.”

Adam’s mind was honey-soaked. Everything was moving too slowly, fragments of thoughts forming and then dripping off into nothingness. His groin burned mercilessly, the come having served only to sting at an especially raw spot on his shaft. There had been flashes during the last stretch of suffocation that he thought he’d surely pass out. Even now, his vision was hazy like he’d spent too long underwater. 

Even so, Adam wasn’t sure he’d achieved this deep a floating, drifting headspace since… he drew a blank. Never. It wasn’t about Nigel getting off that had buried him so fully down into the slinky state of mind he was swimming in - it had been clear that the last round had little to do with physical pleasure. And it certainly wasn’t what usually got him here: watching as the men he toyed with fell more and more engrossed with him, started doing whatever he needed them to do in order to satisfy his whim. 

No, Nigel had torn apart the normal rules Adam played by and had taught him what rewards were obtainable from submitting oneself - not only in some trivial physical way but in his total autonomy. It didn’t matter that Adam had taken a submissive role with lovers before - playing needy, teasingly giving his partners what they asked him for. Until that moment, nose pressed hard into Nigel’s tailbone, lungs collapsing in an effort to fill, he hadn’t truly understood submission.

It was some time until his lungs stopped aching and he finally felt able to stand and clean himself up. Nigel was still there, smoking one cigarette after another, leaving ash towers on his nightstand, but he figured he’d take his brief absence as an opportunity to slip out. He was a mix of astounded and befuddled when he came back to find that Nigel had instead stripped off his soiled clothing and slipped under the covers.

“What are you doing?” Adam asked, not bothering to take the edge out of his voice. Despite the two orgasms - perhaps in part because of them - he held a natural level of disdain for the man making himself comfortable in his bed.

“It’s too late. I’ll sleep here tonight.” Nigel said by way of explanation.

“Excuse me, but the fuck you will.” Adam scoffed. 

Nigel propped himself up in the bed and stared him down. “The fuck I will.” Nigel declared, then sprawled himself out like a starfish on the bed. “Fucking sleep on the floor, cock-sucker.”

***

Adam woke to the sensation of being unable to move, body splayed spread-eagle on his mattress, sheets wrapped around his ankles and two ties looped around his wrists. Nigel stood at the foot of his simple, metal-framed bed, looking smug and flicking his eyes from Adam’s face, to between his spread thighs. 

Adam could _feel_ something moving inside of him as he writhed and struggled against his bonds, chafing his wrists and ankles in a futile effort to get free. He tried to speak but the sound came out muffled; a whimpering plea, and he realized that the dry-cotton feel of his mouth wasn’t a hangover, it was a balled-up pair of underwear. More specifically, he was fairly certain it was Nigel’s come-stained underwear from last night. Memories started to flood back into his overwhelmed brain as he assessed the situation around him. 

“Morning, little cock-sucker. Might want to mind your squirming, you’ve got the handle of a knife inside you. Too much wriggling and you’ll slip past the tang and be in some trouble,” Nigel chuckled, moving closer to the bed and sliding his fingers in a v-shape around where the knife rocked into Adam with each subtle movement of his hips. 

Adam’s eyes grew wide at the suggestion, and his body went completely still as he tried to even out his breathing. He looked at Nigel and was sure that if a look could contain venom or malice, his look certainly did. He was _livid_. 

He’d been mildly suspicious when, several hours into Adam’s multiple failed attempts to get comfortable on his bare, hardwood floor, Nigel had croaked at him with a sleep-muffled voice to get into the ‘fucking bed’ and settle down. He’d thought that _maybe_ Nigel had been feeling some semblance of guilt; clearly he’d been wrong. 

“You look so fucking pretty like this, all open and easy, just for me,” Nigel’s eyes grew a dangerous glint. “Except, I was tempted to call up a few of the boys, have them come take a turn and have some fun. They’re so deprived, you know. A sweet little whore like you would drive them mad.” He grinned, and ran his nails so sharply down Adam’s thighs that he could feel it break the skin, could smell the metallic tang in the air of yet more of his blood. 

Adam managed to work his tongue against the damp fabric in his mouth enough that he could push it out, though it still clung wetly to his bruised, swollen bottom lip. “Nigel, what the _fuck_ do you think you’re doing?” he seethed, spitting the taste of stale come out of his mouth in a gross wad that landed on his chin. He felt disgusting. 

Nigel’s response was immediate, he stalked around the bed and stuffed three of his fingers unceremoniously into Adam’s mouth, shocking Adam enough that he didn’t even think to bite down as Nigel spread his jaws uncomfortably wide by adding his pinky to the mix. “Shut the fuck up, I had you gagged for a goddamn reason. I have a headache; I don’t want to fucking hear you this morning. I just want you to fucking listen,” Nigel threatened, using his free hand to push on the knife sticking so dangerously out of Adam. 

Adam glared but remained still and silent. “Good fucking boy, that’s much better. Now keep quiet and let Daddy talk, darling,” Nigel laughed, keeping his fingers pressed deep into Adam’s mouth, brushing his throat, and the knife moving painfully against his swollen, battered prostate. 

“I saw your fucking notebooks full of my goddamn business, darling. What could you possibly need with all that, hm? Have you been following me?” 

Adam was torn. He couldn’t speak, but even if he had been able to, should he admit the truth? Even a fraction of the truth could get him killed if Nigel were in the mood. He didn’t respond.

“That’s alright, you don’t have to fucking tell me. I _know_ you’ve been following me cause my men have been following you. The real question is _why?_ I’m just a fucking thug, why does a little English prick like you have any interest in my business?” 

Adam still remained silent, unable to speak even if he’d wanted to defend himself, Nigel’s fingers still stuffing him full. 

“Listen, it may be in your best fucking interest not to go poking around where you don’t belong, hear me?” Nigel waited, and after a moment Adam gave an uncertain nod.

Nigel slapped him on the cheek with his free hand. “Good boy! Now for your punishment. I have a meet at the club in a few days. I _might_ consider letting you back into the fucking place if you can be a useful little set of holes for me. There are some men who will be there that I need to show a good time.” Adam’s brows raised indignantly, but his cock twitched once in appreciation. “For being such a nosey little fucker, I want you to offer up that sweet, greedy pussy of yours, your mouth, whatever the fuck they want. Think of yourself as the welcome gift.” 

Nigel paused, pushing the knife so deep inside that Adam swore he could feel the blade kissing his stretched, sore rim. “_If_ you do all of that for me, gorgeous, I’ll take it under serious consideration to keep you around instead of putting a bullet in that pretty little face for being an annoying fucking cunt. You could be a useful little breeder to pass around.”

Nigel kept his fingers in Adam’s mouth, pressing down forcefully on his tongue and causing him to gag against the pressure. He felt stretched, open and debauched. A set of filthy, stuffed holes for Nigel to play with. It was both the most arousing and most infuriating sensation of his life. 

“I’m gonna take my fingers out of your mouth and you’re going to say ‘yes, Nigel’ about the fucking party and then I might untie you. You aren’t allowed to come until you’re being useful at the club. I’ll fucking know if you do and you won’t like the consequences,” Nigel laughed darkly, leaning down to lick up some of the drool spilling around his fingers and out of Adam’s lax mouth. 

Adam gagged when he felt Nigel’s finger pads slide over the back of his tongue on their way out. His mouth finally free, he thought for a long moment about what exactly he should say. 

“I’m willing to work out an arrangement,” he said, at last, his mouth as dry as cotton. 

Nigel pulled his arm back as if he was going to take a hard swing at him, but reeled it in at the very last moment. Instead of a fist, he tapped almost endearingly on the side of Adam’s cheek. “That’s right, little cock sucker, you fucking are.”

***

Adam spent the next couple of days on self-imposed house arrest, engrossed in his work while he let his various bruises fade from greens and vibrant yellows to nearly imperceptible browns. Nigel hadn’t given him much - _The fuck you think you’re negotiating with? Your pussy isn’t good enough to trade,_ Nigel had taunted him - but Adam was precocious and had been able to do the journalistic equivalent of weaving straw into gold.

He moved to unlatch his door after his buzzer sounded. The latch, which previously had gone mostly ignored, was now one of several locks he’d adorned his door with after the night Nigel had shown up. He wasn’t especially sure they would do any good, should Nigel decide to come knocking again, but it did serve him well as a psychological security blanket.

Dimitri rapped lightly on the door and waited to be let in. He kept his looks furtive, but Adam didn’t miss the way he cataloged newer injuries plainly visible across his face: the scratches from being shoved into the wall, the pushed-up cigarette burn still angry on his forearm. He resisted tsking, Adam could tell, but it was a near thing.

“What have you got yourself into this time, myshka?” Dimitri asked, referring to Adam by one of his favorite - and therefore one of Adam’s least adored - nicknames. After surveying the apartment out of force of habit, he made his way over to the kitchen and helped himself to a healthy pour of vodka before sitting down in front of where Adam was pacing.

Adam picked up at full speed: “I think I know where to find the Robini twins. Well, not exactly, but I think the guy that was offed the night I met Nigel might’ve been one of them. If I can figure out who else was at the club that night, then I know who to target when I’m back in the club tomorrow. So I need you to tell me who you saw when you were dealing with them, and all the details of how to recognize them so that I - “

Dimitri held up his hand to cut off Adam’s mile-a-minute rambling. “Jesus kid, slow down. You okay?”

Adam waved dismissively to a small platter with remnant white powder scattered across its surface and continued on. “Yeah, it’s fine. Just needed to concentrate. So what you can do for me is start by writing out a list of everyone you remember by name, then we’ll move on to the people you could describe, and then -”

“Woah woah, I think you’ve had enough. You’re not making any sense. You saw a Robini get offed? How’d you even find out about the Robini twins? And did you say you’re going to the club tomorrow? Do you have a death wish?” Dimitri watched Adam warily, trying to piece the puzzle together enough to follow.

“I was invited. Well, more like ordered to go, but it doesn’t matter, I’d go anyway if Nigel’s guys are going to be there. I might be able to sniff out a target and get him talking with a few drinks. I just need to confirm the identity of the target from the other night. If I’m right about it being Robini then I can use that as an in and I know one of these motherfuckers has to have loose lips”

Adam hadn’t stopped moving, he was in the kitchen now, pouring a second unwanted drink for Dimitri, who had only just started the first. Not recognizing his mistake, he shoved the glass in his other hand and continued his pacing. Dimitri managed to slip in before he could start up again.

“Adam, fucking hell, sit down. You’re making me nauseous. What do you mean ordered? Did you see Nigel again since we last spoke?” his brows were raised in suspicion, almost as though he was expecting to have to figure out whether Adam’s response would be a lie. 

“Yes, yes I went to see him. Or tried to. Then he broke in here and we fucked and now he’s going to use me as some sort of kinky distraction? Sex gift? I don’t know, I was otherwise occupied and it doesn’t really matter. But what I wanted to talk to you about - “

“Adam. Adam! Sit the fuck down. I thought this guy had beat the shit out of you. This isn’t the type of bad boy you go for.”

Adam folded down onto his leg on the opposite end of the couch and gave Dimitri a reproachful look. “I fucked with _you,_ didn’t I?”

Dimitri barked out a laugh. “You flatter me, comparing me to Nigel Ibanescu. Don’t underestimate him, Adam. It’ll be your last mistake. Now sit there, take some fucking calming breaths and start from the beginning.”

Adam brought Dimitri up to speed with his encounters with Nigel, having to repeat the less palatable points multiple times with increasing impatience. Slowly, he pushed the conversation away from his cock and towards his research. Adam’s determination was clear - if foolhardy - and with a sigh of resignation, Dimitri began trying to help provide details of Nigel’s crew. It had been some time since he’d had personal dealings with the Romanians, but Adam took frenzied notes on his vague recollections all the same. By the time Adam was satisfied, it was early the next morning and Adam was fading hard without a re-up.

“Thanks, Dimitri. Really. This’ll be a lot of help.”

“Should I tell you one more time that you’re acting a fool, myshka? Putting yourself at risk to sneak around the big men for a story.” Dimitri told deaf ears. 

“Thanks, dad,” Adam joked but corrected himself when he caught a flash of genuine disappointment in Dimitri’s eyes. “Look, I’ll stay sober and I’ll stay alert. I have another day to look into what you told me, I'm not going in blind.”

A beat and then he added, “And I’ll call when I get home?”

Dimitri laughed his full-throated rumble and pulled Adam into a suffocating hug.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Who’re you?” The coke made Adam bold. Nigel laughed at him and slapped him on the back.
> 
> “These are my friends that I was telling you about...They’re interested in doing business with us. We’re going to get to know each other tonight.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> justlikeyouimagined here - welcome to our depravity. mind the new tags. and combine them with old tags. because shit is going down in this chapter and poor adam gets a whole lot more than he's expecting. details at the end of the chapter for those that don't mind spoilers

Adam had plucked, he’d preened, he’d even gotten a last-minute wax from a huffy Romanian woman who shouted a lot and seemed confused that a twenty-something-year-old man was getting his ass and legs waxed.

Dimitri had brought him as up to speed as much as was possible in such a short period and with his limited resources; he’d been frozen out from communication with Russia and the Romanians were slow to trust, so he had relatively few contacts. Adam had given him a messy blowjob for his trouble and sent him on his way. 

When Adam had first come onto Dimitri, six years prior, Dimitri had gently turned him down, telling him to maybe come talk to him again when he was older. Adam had been back a year later, crawling into Dimitri’s lap, reminding him he was still very much interested and now, very nearly legal. 

Dimitri was a good man, but even the best of men couldn’t deny a naked, squirming, and pleading Adam Towers. Dimitri had been Adam’s first cock he’d let fuck him; he’d given plenty of sloppy blowjobs and quick handjobs by that point but he’d wanted his first time trying anal to be with someone he trusted not to ruin the experience for him. 

Dimitri hadn’t disappointed, taking the wicked boy to bed and fucking him so good Adam had nearly cried. Gavrie, his son and Adam’s schoolmate, hadn’t been particularly pleased to find the two of them in bed together the next morning but, even so, Adam still continued with the occasional sexual tryst with the man. Ultimately, Dimitri was like a doting father figure to Adam, far more loving than his own father ever was. But also annoyingly overprotective, becoming even more so when his relationship with his real son had begun to crumble.

Adam waltzed into the club with a cocky air, like he owned the place. After their previous encounter, he’d nearly decided against coming alone, but ultimately his need for the story was enough to throw caution to the wind. He’d done a few quick bumps before he left his apartment and he felt wired, ready to do whatever it took to get his fucking story. Even if it meant cooperating with Nigel for a while. 

He smiled snidely at the bouncers as they let him pass and missed the smirks exchanged as he made a beeline for Nigel as soon as he saw the man surrounded by a small, gathering crowd. The club was busy, especially considering Nigel had closed it down to the public for the evening and the only people around were there for the event. 

Adam was interrupted en route to Nigel by Darko, who appeared in front of him with a drink already slowly condensating in a whiskey tumbler. “Cock-sucker!” he exclaimed, almost fondly, high, or drunk, or some combination of the two already. “Have a fucking drink! We start with vodka, like real men!” he handed the glass of clear liquid to Adam and gave him an oddly endearing, sloppy kiss on the cheek. _What the fuck?_

Darko grabbed another glass from the top of a passing tray as one of the staff walked by and forcefully _clinked_ it with Adam’s. _“Noroc!”_ he shouted. Adam had been in Bucharest long enough to know it was the equivalent of a cheers. He watched as Darko downed his drink in one go, and Adam decided to go ahead and follow in his example, the blow he’d had earlier already buzzing brilliantly through his system, and causing his heartbeat to pound behind his eyes. 

He pulled his little personal baggy out of the tight, front pocket of his painted-on black skinny jeans. He’d worn skinnies and a form-fitted navy blue top with a few holes artfully placed in the sternum, abdomen, and shoulders. Darko slapped the drugs from his hand with a huff. “You’ll do our fucking party favors or none at all.” There wasn’t really any malice in his words, but it was clearly a warning nonetheless. 

Adam let out a chuckle and kicked the bag with relish. Hands up in surrender, he laughed again, “Okay, okay! I’ll play by your rules!”

Nigel strode up at that moment, wrapping his arm possessively around Adam’s shoulder and spit out a string of Romanian to Darko that he couldn’t begin to understand. 

Darko burst out laughing at whatever Nigel had said to him. “Okay, you’re the boss tonight, whatever you say!”

Adam picked up on that immediately. “You’re the boss tonight? Just tonight?” he looked questioningly at Nigel. 

Nigel shook his head and tsked at him. “Nuh-uh. No questions from you tonight, my snoopy boy. Have another drink.” He motioned towards one of the girls carrying trays and picked up another glass for Adam. 

“To an informative evening,” Nigel cheered, which made Adam furrow his brows in confusion. He decided to take the shot anyway. It burned more than the first. 

Nigel led him into the crowd of men, who had been sneaking glances at him more than he’d thought necessary. He didn’t blend in with the rest of the crew - clearly too pretty to be in the profession. That said, he noticed at least four others that were sneaking too many glances around the club to be regulars. Why the attention was primarily directed towards him was hard to sort out.

“Who’re you?” The coke made Adam bold. Nigel laughed at him and slapped him on the back. 

“These are my friends that I was telling you about - woah -” Adam’s knees buckled under him for a moment, but Nigel’s strong hold on his shoulders kept it from being too noticeable. “They’re interested in doing business with us. We’re going to get to know each other tonight.” 

Darko’s face lit up at that and he spewed Romanian at the group, who laughed in unison. Adam was beginning to wish he was better with languages.

“Adam Towers,” he said by way of greeting, just before his knees gave out from under him again. The sudden movement made his head spin and he closed his eyes tight against the unwanted feeling.

“Let’s take a seat over there. Adam, why don’t you make yourself useful for a little bit while I have a chat with our new friends?” Nigel smiled at him, then motioned for two of the wait staff to flank him on either side. 

Adam swayed again, grabbing hard onto the thin wrist of one of the women. He looked up at her but her face blurred in and out of focus. He squinted, but it was useless. “Fuuuck,” he slurred out, getting stuck on the vowel far longer than he intended. 

A burst of panic coursed through him and Adam shook off the server’s hands. He darted up to Nigel and shoved him hard from behind. What had felt like a massive effort barely made Nigel lose a step. 

“Fuck!” he said again, straining to speak clearly. “Fucking you fucking drugged me!”

Nigel’s face loomed forward before receding back. He felt the _slap slap slap_ of Nigel’s palm on his tender cheek. The warmth spread from the point of contact, out over his face and into his hair.

Nigel cradled Adam’s face in his hands. “Darko drugged you, my little cock-sucker. He thought you’d need some motivation, but I told him your greedy boy cunt would eagerly oblige us if we just asked nicely.”

Adam caught half of what Nigel was speaking directly into his face. His eyes drooped and he felt a little rivulet of drool escape his slack mouth. “Was’that I’d agree to?” he slurred, trying hard to stay standing. He was finding he didn’t really mind the idea of sitting down on the club floor, despite how sticky he knew it would be. 

“You volunteered as tonight’s entertainment.” Darko chimed in, his normally surly look replaced with a jovial smile. 

Adam squished his eyes together tightly, trying to make sense of what he was hearing. The two servers appeared on either side of him again; this time he let them take the bulk of his weight while he stood jello-legged, his face still in Nigel’s hands. 

“Business can be rather dull. I wanted our friends to have something to do in between our talks,” he offered by way of explanation. 

Nigel leaned in, biting the edge of Adam’s bottom lip. A flickering heat jolted through him, from his lip, down his chest, and to his groin. He let out an unrestrained moan. 

Nigel released his lip and smiled at him, just him, as if the rest of the club didn’t exist for a brief moment. “That’a boy, Adam. Play nice and we’ll see about a reward, okay?”

There was little Adam could do. Little he wanted to do. The tingling sensation from where Nigel had touched him - for only a few seconds - still lingered and was making his groin ache. Sloppily, he nodded his head up and down.

Nigel gave him a curt nod and stood tall, barked a quick order at the waitress, and then turned back to his business partners. The petite server gently maneuvered him over to the sparsely crowded dance floor, which mercifully held a single stool upon which Adam flopped. 

His body was drugged, but his mind was racing. He’d just agreed to this - whatever _this_ was. He was fairly sure he knew what this was. He shuddered visibly, though between his legs throbbed. Confused by the incongruity between his mind and his body’s reaction, he swallowed hard and let out a confused groan. 

For a time, it was only Adam and his two wait staff in the middle of the floor. He felt exposed, sloppy, more than a little excited. Soon, a greedy looking man, about mid-thirties, approached him, palm clearly placed over where his cock strained inside his jeans. He gave Adam a little smirk and said something in - Romanian? Russian? It was too difficult to pick out. Adam could only infer from the tone that he might have been either aroused or offended by whatever he’d just been called. 

The server pet down his back, sending racing trails of fireworks up and down his spine, into the base of his skull. That felt good, he thought, really fucking good. Too good. 

The other waitress said something to him in a quiet, soothing voice. Adam nodded, smiling with half of his mouth. Immediately, the man who had been lurking just out of arm's reach stepped forward and unzipped his jeans. 

The stranger's cock wasn’t anything particularly special, but to Adam, it looked fucking delicious. He leaned forward, nearly toppling himself off the stool if not for the two servers who held him up, and opened his lax mouth wide. 

The warm, clean taste of cock on his tongue made him groan involuntarily, and he immediately reached out to grab at the man’s hips so that he could better position himself to take more in. 

Adam had only barely begun to paw at the man’s still clothed hips when he felt a harsh hand thread through the curls at the nape of his neck and _pull_. He hissed out a yelp of pain as he was yanked off the man and thrown to his knees hard enough that he heard a crack. He didn’t think anything was broken, but he was sure he’d bruise. Distantly, he thought he should care, but his immediate needs were only to get the man’s cock back into his eager mouth. 

His head was forced up and he saw Darko towering over him, eyes aflame with lust and something darker. “I know you’re a thirsty fucking slut, little cock-sucker, but I need to sample the product before we go distributing it around to our friends, yeah? So get my fucking cock out and show me what you’ve got,” Darko demanded, not lessening his hold on Adam’s hair at all, pushing Adam’s face into his crotch and rubbing it against the metallic bite of his zipper. 

Adam felt the zipper get caught on his lip, slicing through the pouty bottom one, and he tasted the thin, salty flavor of blood on his tongue. He looked up at Darko with blood-stained teeth and a coy grin, licking his lips clean as he tried desperately to unbutton the jeans in front of his face. 

Darko grew impatient within seconds and tossed Adam down, the slim, blonde server the only thing stopping his head from connecting with the floor. Darko snarled as he pulled his cock out of his pants and then reached for Adam again, dragging him back up to his knees and forcing him down onto his cock with one thrust, straight into his throat. He wasn’t sure if it was the drug, the coke, his own eagerness, or a combination of several things, but he didn’t even gag at the intrusion. 

His eyes watered though, as he met Darko’s gaze, and he loved the desire he saw reflected there. He knew he was just another commodity to trade in, just another product to sample for the man, but it still felt empowering to know that he was desired. It may not have been the type of desperate need he was accustomed to, but it would do for now.

Adam sank down without further prompting, swallowing several times around Darko, fluttering his throat around him temptingly. He wasn’t as thick as Nigel, but he was long and slightly curved and it was hitting Adam’s throat in a slightly uncomfortable way. He pushed through the discomfort until his lips were touching the smattering of wiry hair at Darko’s groin. 

Darko groaned, tossing his head back and letting out what Adam assumed was a string of curse words in Romanian. “Fuck, Nigel wasn’t talking out of his ass for once, you really are a professional cock-sucker,” he grunted, thrusting his hips at a steady pace. Each inward thrust caused Adam’s eyes to water a little more, he could feel the warm, salty tears leaking from the corners of his eyes and dripping down his face, mingling with the froth of saliva he knew was already slipping down his chin. 

Adam moaned, a wanton, needy sound that came out muffled by the dick embedded in his throat. Darko laughed, a low, dark sound. “Fucking slut, how’s my cock taste, hm?” he pulled his cock out, apparently waiting for an answer.

“So good, please, Darko,” Adam whined, licking his lips to collect some of the spit shining wetly around his mouth. 

Darko put his hand around Adam’s throat, pulling him closer and rubbing his wet cock all over his cheeks and chin. “Tell me you want it, tell me you need my fucking cock,” Darko demanded, holding Adam’s gaze with his own. 

Adam sobbed, whatever drug they had given him was making him needy, horny and highly susceptible to suggestion. He didn’t even hesitate to reply, “Need you inside, Darko, please. Wanna taste your cock, god, please!” he begged, his pleas gathering more of a crowd as Darko slammed back into his throat and set a grueling pace. 

Adam let his eyes drift shut as he was used, but he could hear people around them, moving closer, some bold enough to touch him even as Darko fucked his throat punishingly. A harsh slap to his cheek forced his eyes open again and he took in their surroundings. Nigel and a handful of businessmen were still conducting their affairs on the couches across the club. 

Several men were now congregated around where Adam was on display in the middle of the floor, some of them with their hands either in their pants, or their cocks pulled out of their zippers as they watched him being treated so roughly. 

Darko’s hand had moved from his throat to his sweaty curls, holding his hair firmly as he fucked him. The slight twitch of his fingers was Adam’s first sign that he might be close to release. Emboldened by the onlookers and the drugs coursing through him, Adam lifted his hand sluggishly, it was hard to be coordinated when everything felt like it was spinning, and he gently kneaded at Darko’s balls where they hung outside of his pants. 

Darko’s body drew taut as he forced his cock all the way down Adam’s throat and held him against his stomach, fucking his come into Adam’s throat. He was only moderately sad that he couldn’t taste the man’s release because he knew there were more men to replace him. “Good fucking boy,” he rumbled down at Adam, slapping his cheek a few times, enough to sting, and Adam nearly preened at the praise. 

As the gruff Romanian mobster pulled away, Adam licked his lips coquettishly, or at least as close to seductively as he could manage while so fucking high he felt like he was flying above the building. 

“Who’s next?” Darko chuckled, tossing Adam away from him hard enough that he collapsed against the stool still standing in the middle of the floor. His elbow impacted with the floor and he _thought_ his face contorted in pain, but he honestly had no concept of bodily functions and wasn’t sure of anything anymore, the world was a watery haze in his brain and the input/output of sensations was jarring. 

One of the men, it looked like the first one that had originally approached, shuffled forward, cock still hanging out of his pants. He shouted something that Adam didn’t quite understand, and within moments the blonde server was kneeling beside him and peeling him out of his clothes. It took an effort to get him out of his skinny jeans because he was basically useless to help her, but eventually, he was kneeling, nude, in the middle of a sizable group of men that were eyeing him predatorily. 

“Get him on a fucking table!” one of the men shouted, and Adam felt himself being hoisted up by strong, unfamiliar hands as he was dragged to one of the pool tables a few feet away, off to the side of the main dance floor. 

He was tossed on top of the green felt on his back, his neck on the edge so that his head was nearly hanging off the side, his legs splayed wide and uncoordinated. He got a bit lost in the sensation of the fabric beneath his fingertips and all along his body; it felt softer than the floor but still abrasive against his flushed, sensitive skin. The drug was making things feel so much more, intense and overwhelming to a degree Adam had rarely experienced.

He was snapped out of his momentary reverie by the feel of something cold and perfectly round being pushed against his perineum, completely missing his entrance. “Wonder if he could fit a ball into his pussy?” one of the men observed, knocking all of the billiard balls off the table as he climbed up and between Adam’s thighs.

“Perhaps another time, gentlemen. For tonight, let’s keep it to cocks only,” Darko laughed, pulling the stool over so he could sit and observe. A flash of something almost like appreciation flickered through Adam’s stomach as he realized that Darko was keeping an eye on him; even if it was only to protect an asset, it still helped Adam feel safer. 

His world tilted on its axis again as his head was forced back to hang limply from the side of the table and a man approached, pants around his knees, and slipped his cock into Adam’s mouth without preamble. 

At the same time, the man on the table was shuffling between Adam’s spread legs, fingering at his hole. “He’s already fucking wet, the little whore,” the man observed, holding up his fingers, shiny with the lube Adam had used to help prepare himself before he arrived. He hadn’t been sure what to expect. 

“A wet pussy’s only good for one thing, right boys?” Darko smirked as the men all shouted their agreement. The man kneeling on the table forced Adam’s legs even further apart and he felt a twinge of pain in his hips from the sensation. Seconds later, he felt the man’s raw cock, forcing its way into his hole. Thankfully, whatever drug Darko had given him had made Adam’s muscles relaxed, his body not fighting against the rough entry, remaining loose and open for the man. 

The blonde server joined the brunette, each holding a length of rope. He shifted at the implication but held steady as both of his legs were bound calf to thigh, effectively hobbling him. He wouldn’t be able to get off the table without assistance. He felt a pang of helplessness.

Darko came around when he was bound and took hold of one of his knees, moving his stub back and forth because he could. His hand skimmed over his smooth thighs and he laughed, looking towards Adam. “Smooth little cock sucker, huh? Little pussy loves to pretty itself up for tonight, huh?” 

Adam’s own cock twitched in response. The man inside him had pushed up one of his stumps, changing the angle enough that he could feel the head of his uncut cock bump over his insides. 

“Completely hairless!” Darko said to the crowd. He felt several hands come up to rub against his chest and his thighs, their touch running red hot through his body. Adam bucked up at the attention.

“Make sure you pump it deep into him, Russo, Nigel’ll want him full up before he’s done,” he commanded. Adam nodded his head in agreement; there was nothing else he could think of wanting more than to feel a hot throbbing cock shoot into his ass. 

Someone slapped at his face, and he turned towards them. Two cocks poked into his lips and face when he turned, spreading slick precome over his cheek. He opened wide and mouthed the head of one cock, grabbing a hold of the other. Before he had set a pace jerking the man off, he felt another cock jab demandingly at his other lax hand. 

Inside him, the first man stilled and started pulsing hard, pushing come deep into his intestines. Adam groaned hard around the cockhead, squeezed himself shut when he pulled out and tried to tilt his hips up so that he wouldn’t lose any.

“Another!” Darko cried, slapping over his wet hole a couple of times until it hurt just enough to make Adam flinch. He took a long, composing breath and waited for either the next strike or the next cock.

The man using his mouth was starting to thrust; Adam adjusted his position as best he could to focus his energies on the cock. He relaxed his throat and felt it hit the back and then slide on, clogging him more than Darko’s had. This one tasted less pleasant though, saltier with sweat and the smells of the day. 

Darko swirled his finger around Adam’s rim, occasionally dipping two fingers and splaying them to stretch him deliciously. Just then, he felt a spongy cockhead press against his hole, between the digits. To his satisfaction, Darko didn’t remove his fingers, but let the new cock slide slickly into his open hole.

Adam had never felt so full, so wholly debauched as he did with a cock in each hand, one in his mouth, and spread wide on Darko’s fingers as a cock pushed inside of him. He let his eyes slip closed for a moment but was distressed to feel that his muscles were tensing, less lax as the effects of the drug started to wear off. 

He whined, low and long in his plugged throat and the man fucking his mouth groaned at the vibrations. “He fucking loves cock, he’s whining for it,” the man observed before spilling hotly into Adam’s spasming throat. When he pulled out, he made sure to spread his release and Adam’s saliva across his chin and cheeks, Adam was filthy already.

“Darko!” he tried to cry out, but the word was a little garbled, and before he could try again there was another cock, this one far less pleasant than the two before it, sliding unceremoniously into his mouth. He could feel one of the female servers slipping two dainty fingers in beside the cock in his mouth, spreading his jaws painfully wide and allowing drool to slip filthily down his chin. Everything _hurt_ all of a sudden, his body overwhelmed now that the drugs weren’t as potent in his system. 

He tried to arch but was stopped by his bonds, he tried to search out Darko’s face in the small crowd around him, and finally found him, making desperate eye contact and hoping he would understand. 

Darko laughed, a barking sort of unexpected laughter like when watching a grotesque comedy of errors. He saw it plainly, how Adam fit into their business plan. Nigel saw it, he was sure. It was only Adam that lay bound on the table, spread open and being actively fucked by multiple men, who didn’t seem to fully understand his role. 

To make things clear, Darko looked up and yelled out for Nigel. Nigel turned his head, annoyed by the interruption. Adam tried to dislodge the cock from his throat so he could swivel enough to see his face. Surely, he would notice things were getting out of hand. 

What Adam expected to happen - an intervention, or at the very least some passing acknowledgment of his discomfort - never came. Nigel shouted some reply back at Darko, who laughed again then turned back to face Adam.

“See?” he said, pulling his fingers out sharply from his ass. Seconds later, the man fucking into him shoved himself to the balls and came.

There was no reprieve: another man quickly jutted into him, while two others held his stubs open wide, making the tendons in his groin burn with the stretch. He let his once active mouth go slack and allowed his eyes to unfocus. The wriggling weight of reality landed full force onto his stomach. He swallowed back the acidic burn of bile. 

“You are the pussy tonight, cock-sucker,” Darko explained, now unnecessarily. “You are the entertainment. Let these men come on your tits, smile pretty and say thank you, you needy bitch.”

Adam heard Nigel shout something else and everything abruptly stopped. He foolishly let himself hope, for only a moment, that it meant it was over. He could go home and collapse into his bed, curl up in his duvet and never come back out. He felt disgusting, covered in come and sweat and spit and what felt heavy and slick, like blood, coating his rim and inner thighs. He didn’t even want to look at himself. 

He wasn’t allowed to hope for too long before he was being forcefully yanked off all of the dicks currently violating him and thrown bodily to the ground, landing flat on his stomach so hard that the breath was knocked from his lungs. 

Once he’d managed to collect himself, he heard shouting. “Get to the fucking couches,” Darko leaned down close, laughing as he watched Adam struggle to crawl on his hands and the numb stumps of his knees. 

Progress was slow, the space stretched ahead of him endlessly and he felt like it took hours instead of minutes to crawl across the sticky, suspect floor of the club, laughs and even a few kicks being tossed his way. 

He finally made it to the couches; Nigel and the businessmen were sat along the farthest wall and Darko stopped Adam before he made it all the way to them. The couches Darko apparently wanted Adam to crawl to were black, cracked leather that looked like they would be covered in god knows what. Even in his current state, he shivered at the idea of having to _touch_ one. 

Before he could give it much thought, someone was holding a switchblade to his skin and cutting away the ropes that held him, drawing blood in the process. If he thought he would be relieved to have use of his legs back, he was mistaken. The sudden return of blood flow through his unused appendages caused a flash of cold, then hot and finally a scalding sensation of the worst type of pins and needles as feeling returned to his legs. With the drug nearly completely worn off, he had no buffer to the pain and simply had to endure it.

Someone grabbed him by the hair, hard enough that his teeth knocked together, and tossed him over the arm of the couch, bent at the waist. 

What happened to him after that began to blur. Cock after cock filled him, leaving their come behind, either up his ass or down his throat, or occasionally pulling out just soon enough to smear it over his face or backside. Adam was trembling near constantly now; though he detested every one of the men that slammed into him, the near-constant pressure in his ass was making him regretfully approach orgasm. 

His lower guts were aching for being so filled with fluids. The men behind him made either disgusted or aroused noises, depending on their personal inclinations, at how much come would leak out of Adam’s used hole in between each turn. Enough was staying in though - he was beginning to feel swollen, a sensation which only served to press more uncomfortably into his prostate. 

Adam closed his eyes, trying to separate himself as much as possible from his body. There were so many of them; he didn’t know how much longer this would go on. He wanted to slip away, dissociate from the aching, burning, stinging self that kept him tethered to this nightmare.

Then, suddenly, nothing. All men let go and he was allowed to slump over into the soiled couch, exhausted. A single rough hand slid down his back. Adam managed to flutter his eyes open to see Nigel looking down adoringly at him.

“My cock-sucker, what a good show you’ve put on tonight.” The cruelty was apparent in his words, but there was something else that Adam couldn’t place. Pride, perhaps. Something small and sick and twisted preened inside Adam at that. 

Nigel maneuvered him to flip over, so he might slide off the edge of the couch and lay down on its overstuffed cushions. The twisting made him squirt a fine ribbon of come, much to the amusement of the men that still stood around. The pressure - both inside and against his rim as he tried to stop himself from the embarrassing onslaught - was nearly overwhelming. 

Nigel grabbed hold of his ankles and with great care, lifted his legs up and over, so that he could see his toes above him. Adam whined a most desperate sound and squirmed, trying to keep everything in. A thin dribble leaked out, regardless.

“Who wants to see this cunt really squirt?” Nigel asked the crowd. The men around him cheered; Adam sobbed. Nigel leaned down so that his mouth was level with Adam’s face. “Come on now, my little whore, give the men a finale to remember.”

As a last act of resistance, Adam shook his head violently, straining to keep his ass clenched as tightly as he could. Nigel growled and smacked him across the ass with his full force. The jolt of pain made him flinch; when he instinctively relaxed: it was over. It came out slowly at first, but as the relief mounted, he actively pushed the rest of the come out. He squirted like a fountain, all over his ass and cock and balls. The relief was so monumental, he shuddered with the onset of his orgasm.

Adam whimpered through the aftershocks, tears streaming down his cheeks as he sobbed. One of the businessmen who had been speaking with Nigel all night actually chuckled at the demonstration. 

The rest of the men gathered around picked up on his enthusiasm and they all started laughing openly at Adam’s wrecked, splayed body; he was covered in come and sweat and blood and spit and felt like he had licked the bottom of an ashtray and then chased it down with a shot of piss. His entire body throbbed like one massive bruise and he couldn’t even try to move from where Nigel had thrown him. 

“Gentlemen, Darko will see you all out. I will see you all for dinner tomorrow evening at Osho.” Nigel shook hands with each man in turn as they all prepared to leave and walked by Adam, not even acknowledging him any longer. It was like he had simply melted into the furniture for them, now that they weren’t balls deep in him. 

He groaned, sliding down the fake leather and basically pouring himself into the floor, his legs too sore, knees too weak to hold him up so he leaned against the couch for support. 

“Nigel, please,” he croaked. His throat felt flayed apart but also slimy wet from the amount of semen he’d been forced to consume. His head fell back against the seat cushion behind him, his eyes roving around trying to find Nigel. 

He curled up onto himself and began to cry in earnest. Heavy, shaking sobs he didn’t bother trying to hide. There was nothing left for him to hold back.

He was left alone long enough that he thought that, blessedly, they may have forgotten about him. The club was quiet, not even Darko or Nigel’s voices coming from the main entrance where he’d seen them escort the other men out. Maybe, he thought, he might be able to leave. 

After a long few moments, he stopped shaking and pulled himself from off the sticky couch. His mind was a fog of near dissociation and drug come down. Every thought was an effort. Every movement like a marathon.

He made his way over to the empty bar, pulled off a wad of scratchy thin paper towels and began to wipe the filth off of him. When that wouldn’t work, he found the sink and started to splash himself with ice-cold water, ignoring the shock of the temperature on his skin. It worked better this way, he might be able to get enough off that he could stop a cab without it immediately driving away at the sight of him.

He leaned over the sink and doused his hair in the spray, closing his eyes against the cold. He imagined his memories like strings of fluid, seeping out of him and down the metal drain. He wanted nothing more than to forget this night. 

Footsteps echoed through the silent club. Part of him wanted it to be Nigel so that he might explain to him what in the fuck just happened and tell him some tale that might begin to make things okay. The other part wanted it to be Nigel, so he might have the chance to claw his seething hate into his skin. 

It was Darko.

“We’ve got a shower in the back, kid. It’ll be easier than scumming up our bar,” he said, motioning for him to follow as he slipped through a back door. 

He stumbled once, trying to keep pace, unmindful of his nakedness as the back of house seemed as deserted as the front. 

“Towels are in the cupboard,” he said, holding open the door for Adam to step into a small but well-supplied bathroom. Nicer than the one he’d first met Nigel in. Clean.

***

Nigel was fucking exhausted, business meetings always drained him. Darko was often left in charge of the actual business and relationship building and Nigel was the enforcement, but this meeting had been important because the Russians had been secretly trying to move in on their territory and Nigel needed to know who he could trust. 

Adam had proven the perfect fucking distraction, though Nigel hadn’t anticipated the drug wearing off quite so quickly. Hhe wasn’t sure he was capable of guilt, but he at least felt sorry for the stress Adam clearly experienced due to the sudden drop. But in his business, you either appeared tough or you were cut down. So Nigel didn’t have time to play nice and check in on Adam during the night. He’d managed to gain some new insights and he and Darko could sort out the details after dinner tomorrow night. 

“Fucking Russians,” Nigel grumbled, running a hand down his face and sighing forcefully through his teeth. He looked up and saw Darko walking away from the entrance to the backroom. 

“Where’s the cock-sucker?” he looked towards the crusty couch, which was the last place he’d been. 

“Got him set up in the bathroom,” Darko hesitated, clearly he had something else to say. “Maybe you should go talk to him? Get him into bed?” 

Nigel huffed. “He’ll be fucking fine, Darko.” but even as he said it, he started to make his way to the back rooms. 

Adam was already in the shower, a heavy steam already starting to fill up the room. “Hey, kid, it’s just me,” Nigel announced himself, sitting down on the toilet seat. 

Adam jumped, nearly tumbling over in the shower. He was already leaning heavily on the slick, tiled wall, his legs still felt wobbly and he felt about as capable as a fucking newborn to stand on his own. 

He saw the way the kid bolted upright in the shower as though shocked by his very voice. Something akin to sympathy shot through him, so fast he barely had time to recognize it as such. Still, it had been there and its ghost gnawed at him while Adam hurried to finish the shower. 

He held out a towel. Defiantly, Adam all but ignored him, choosing to strain himself to grab another from the cupboard by the shower, well out of comfortable reach. He wrapped himself in the thin material, wishing he had about six dozen more to burrow himself into a hole with and never come out.

As it was, Nigel could now see what had been largely hidden by the club’s dim lighting and Adam’s previous filthy state: bruises and small nicks and scrapes from his chin all along the length of his torso. When Adam stepped out of the shower, he caught a glimpse of a much larger wound on his thigh, still weeping lazily into the dingy terrycloth. 

Nigel ducked down and pulled out what looked like a long-neglected first aid bag from the bottom cupboard. “Come here, you’re still bleeding,” Nigel said, unzipping the bag to reveal rolls of gauze and tape.

Adam tightened the towel tighter, somehow wanting Nigel’s kind touch less than anything else he’d experienced tonight. He was still seething mad, nearly shaking with the effort of not jumping on the older man and letting out his anger with his fists. Nigel wasn’t especially muscular, but he was clearly the stronger of the two of them; it was a useless fantasy to imagine doing much harm, especially in his state. 

Watching Adam hold onto the cheap towel in defense, another sympathy pang ran through Nigel. It was annoyingly cloying, and he tried to shake it off. Fucking Darko shouldn’t have let them hurt him this much. That’s not how they treat their merchandise. 

“Sit down,” Nigel said firmly, standing up and motioning for Adam to take his place on the toilet seat. “You’re bleeding all over my fucking club.”

Adam’s leg stung, now that attention was being drawn to it. More than the rest of him, the pain focused there and he admitted to himself that he was only hurting himself by rejecting Nigel’s offer of help. Wearily, he sat down on the toilet seat.

Nigel dug into his tight front pocket and pulled out a small bag of a half dozen blue pills. He opened the baggie and held up two for Adam.

Adam looked at him incredulously. “You’re fucking kidding me, right?”

Nigel rolled his eyes, thrusting his hand at Adam again. “Just take the fucking pills, kid. I’m not going to kill you in my club.” 

At Adam’s continued clear distrust, Nigel sighed. “Look, these are for the pain, alright? Don’t want to hear you bitchin’ about how much you hurt.” Nigel lied, trying to shake the guilt that was coiling tightly in his stomach. Nigel Ibanescu didn’t feel fucking guilty. He especially didn’t give a fuck about some cock-sucking English asshole. 

And yet, he couldn’t help himself from wanting to help Adam, to treat his wounds and put him to bed in one of the locked backrooms. 

Adam finally relented, his entire body felt like an open sore and the promise of relief was enough to overcome any dread at further potential antics from Nigel. He took the two pills and downed them dry, swallowing thickly around them. 

“This doesn’t make us fucking even, Nigel. That shit you pulled back there wasn’t okay. That’s not what I signed up for,” Adam grimaced as he dropped his towel, and even the sensation of it dragging down his skin was enough to set his nerves aflame.

Uncharacteristically for him, Nigel began addressing the most noticeable injuries, and let the kid berate him in silence.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Summary: Adam goes back to the club, where Darko, Nigel and a gaggle of guests are waiting for him. He's the entertainment for the evening and after a couple mixed drinks (see also: drugged), Darko and the crew go to town on poor Adam. Dub/Non-con due to drugging and (at times violent) gangbang.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I really don’t want to fucking talk about whatever happened last night.” 
> 
> Dimitri’s hand flinched, but he didn’t pull away.
> 
> “Make me feel better?”

Adam woke up in his own bed well past noon. The small windows of his bedroom let the early afternoon sun in as hot stripes across his body. His head was hammering, thick and loud with the slightest movement. After a quarter-hour recovering from a failed first attempt to roll out of bed, he gingerly sat up and made his way to the bathroom.

What he confronted in the mirror shocked him. He blinked too many times, trying to refocus around the bruises and scrapes. He hurt all over; he looked like absolute shit. He stared down at himself in disbelief, his hands running gently over his bruised torso and legs. His hands brushed past gauze by his ribs, and further down over a large patch on his thigh.

What the _fuck_ had happened?

His mind was racing, a sea of half-formed images and crowding sensations, but he couldn’t make sense of it. He still felt out of it - like electricity was bottled inside his exhausted body. It was a discomfiting juxtaposition and he wanted nothing more than for it to go away.

He downed a small handful of painkillers, pissed, and went immediately back to the bedroom.

His phone buzzed against the floor, dancing across the floorboards. Ignoring it at first, the fifth message made him roll over and unlock the device. Ten missed messages. The last five from Dimitri, each increasing in urgency. The final one simply read: _I’m coming over._ Adam ran a hand through his hair and let out a tired sigh.

One message was from Nigel. A knot in his stomach pulled tight, his pulse picked up several notches. Without pausing to analyze the reaction, he threw his phone down without reading.

Adam closed his bleary eyes and when he woke, the sun had moved lazily down the bedroom. It took him a few moments to realize where the thudding noise was coming from.

Wrapping himself in a blanket like a soft cocoon, he shuffled out of bed and towards the front door.

When the door swung open on its hinges, Dimitri let out a long, pained exhale.

“Oh, _lastachka,_ what have you gotten yourself into?” Dimitri pushed his way into the room, shutting the door quickly and firmly behind him and sliding the multitude of locks home.

He was on Adam immediately, pushing the blankets away and running his hands along Adam’s bare chest and bruised ribs, taking in each and every scrape and budding bruise.

“I heard, but I didn’t think it would be this bad,” he fretted, herding Adam to the velvet-covered chaise tucked in the corner of the room.

Adam perked up at that, curious. “What did you hear? ‘Cause my night is a pretty massive blank space.”

“You don’t remember?” Dimitri trailed off, muttering _fucking Nigel_ under his breath as he wandered into Adam’s kitchen in search of ice. When he didn’t find any, he took two bags of frozen fruit out of the freezer and returned to Adam’s side, huffing as he tried to find the areas that most needed attention.

“Nigel had a party last night to welcome some Russian cunts to Bucharest. From what I’ve gathered, things got a bit out of hand. Which fucking clearly seems to be the case - just look at you!”

Adam had already seen. He could _feel_ it, which was a great deal worse. His head pounded with a persistent headache at the back of his skull and his body felt like a live wire, he had an almost frantic energy that thrummed just beneath his aching skin.

Having Dimitri’s familiar hands all over him was causing low-grade arousal to simmer in the pit of his stomach, and he wasn’t sure how to process that.

Dimitri made another worried pass over Adam’s mottled chest, his thumb catching on Adam’s nipple as he went, sending a shiver of arousal through Adam before he captured his wandering palm with his own hand and clutched it to himself. “Dimitri -“ he paused, clearing his throat; it felt raw and torn open and talking was painful. “I really don’t want to fucking talk about whatever happened last night.”

Dimitri’s hand flinched, but he didn’t pull away. He looked seekingly at Adam’s tired face, finding behind his eyes a familiar wryness that even a severe beating couldn’t diminish. He shook his head, but leaned forward and placed his lips gently onto Adam’s own.

Adam hummed, leaning in to deepen the kiss nearly immediately. His tongue traveled over Dimitri’s, wrapping with it, mingling together until they both pulled away breathless. Adam peeled back the rest of his blankets from across his hips to show off, an eyebrow arching playfully.

“Make me feel better?” He asked, a slight pout to his full lips. Dimitri huffed, which only caused Adam to laugh and - despite the pain it caused him - shift his hips up and shake his prick out in invitation.

“You’re the definition of a slut, Adam.” Dimitri chided, gently laying Adam down and planting a delicate kiss on one of the closer bruises on his ribs. “You need to be careful. You’ll get killed, and for what? A story? A nice piece of ass?”

“Hmmm,” Adam sighed, laying his head back and momentarily getting lost in the feeling of Dimitri’s rough stubble against his nipple.

“You worry too much. I’m _your_ slut now, Daddy. Now come over here and kiss away my owies,” This time, he did stick out his lip fully, giving Dimitri puppy dog eyes and laughing when he caught Dimitri’s pained expression. Adam knew the age difference in their sexual life, and their blossoming father-son relationship rang at times discordant with Dimitri, but he couldn’t help himself.

What had started off as a challenge - to bed his classmate’s Very Fuckable Father - had developed over the years into something that Adam might drunkenly admit he cherished for far more than just a good lay. He couldn’t rely on his own father for the paternal advice or concern that Dimitri gave. It felt good sometimes to be taken care of.

Adam parted his legs wide, scooting himself up onto the chaise. Dimitri made his way down his body languidly, giving extra attention wherever he found something purpled or scraped. Being under the older man’s attention served to calm Adam’s frenetic energy that he’d woken up with.

Dimitri’s lips felt like fire where they landed, but the lingering kisses he left on each mark on Adam’s body felt like ice, calming his aches and soothingly sinking into his veins. It didn’t stop him from desperately bucking into the too-gentle touches, wanton and craving more.

“Please,” Adam whimpered, knowing that pleading sweetly often got him his way with Dimitri. It worked this time just as effectively as it always did, Dimitri kneeled at the edge of the chaise and took Adam into his mouth, just the first few inches to start. Dimitri didn’t suck cock, he only ever did this for Adam, so Adam made sure to take it easy on him, forcing himself not to thrust up into the welcoming warmth.

“Fuck, Daddy,” Adam groaned, biting down on his hand to try and contain some of the sounds he wanted to make. He hated how quickly Dimitri could bring him to begging, needy whines; he felt like a squirming mess already, and they’d only just started.

Dimitri couldn’t maintain eye contact when they did this, but he made up for it by sucking gently at the tip, slipping his tongue into Adam’s slit and sliding the foreskin along his shaft as he teased him.

“Want you to fuck me, please, fill me up,” Adam whined.

Dimitri popped off his cock, uncertainty reflected in his concerned eyes. “Are you sure, myshka? It might hurt,” he reasoned, leaning forward to lap at the weeping tip of Adam’s cock.

“Yeah, want to feel you, only you, inside,” Adam’s voice was broken, pleading as he shifted beneath the man’s gaze.

“Alright, sweet boy, I’ll take care of you,” He leaned closer to Adam, pressing one long finger past Adam’s lax, pleading lips, getting it wet. He returned to what he’d been doing, enveloping Adam in his mouth again, slipping shallowly up and down his shaft. He moved his hand below his lips and with his other fingers, carefully got to work spreading him apart.

Dimitri circled around his used rim so gently he felt himself flutter at the touch. He sighed, leaning his head back and canting his hips up, careful not to choke his partner while seeking more of the tender touch. Dimitri sucked appreciatively on his head, lapping about the shaft and then trailing down. He moved lower, just enough to let the saliva drip out of his open mouth and onto Adam’s hole, where he used his finger to slick him up and press just inside.

His voice came out heavy and wanting, “Spread wide, Adam, a little more, yes, like that,” He chanced a glance up at Adam, whose eyes were half-closed in pleasure. “My boy, yes, good boy,” He tried the words out, his cheeks flushing as he said them.

Adam let out a huff of laughter, squirming to get more of Dimitri’s finger inside him. “Love it when you treat me nice. I want your big cock inside me. Don’t tease.”

What embarrassment Dimitri felt quieted him, but nevertheless, he let his finger push deeper, past the second ring of muscles. Adam flinched involuntarily as a flash of bodies and heat crashed over him, too vague to be a memory but familiar enough to unsettle him. Dimitri noticed immediately and pulled up and out.

“You’re hurt,” Dimitri stated plainly, then looked down at Adam’s spread hole to confirm. The shower Adam had taken last night had washed him of the transient evidence, but his rim was still inflamed an angry red that alarmed his lover.

Dimitri sat up and began to move away, but Adam trapped him between his legs, stopping him. He let out an exaggerated whine, shifting his hips suggestively. “No, Daddy… Dimitri, please. It’s okay - I’m okay,” To prove it, he sucked wetly on his fingers, reached around one lifted leg and pushed two fingers just past his rim. The angle was awkward and his fingernails scraped on somewhere he felt raw, but he didn’t let himself pull away. More than a ploy, Adam was growing restless, wanting more urgently to have Dimitri press inside and claim him back from whoever had defiled him the night before.

“Dimitri, please. I wanna feel you, wanna feel that hard cock inside me and --” Adam stopped, catching sight of Dimitri’s hand as it moved to press against the tightness under his track pants. He arched his brow, pulled himself up and bit his lip. “Come’on, Daddy, show me your huge cock. Make me wet and fill me full with it, please.”

Where Nigel would have just spat on his hole and plowed in without preamble or care, Dimitri took his time, relaxing Adam’s sore muscles with smooth, steady thrusts of his fingers, just barely pressing up against his prostate every other inward thrust to keep him on the edge of delirious pleasure. Dimitri had been fucking Adam for long enough to know his body intimately, to know his favorite spots to be touched and all the best ways to make him come apart; which is exactly what he did now.

He ran his hands along Adam’s slim hips, down his thighs and tickled against the sides of his knees - a place he knew Adam was particularly sensitive. Adam arched his back and whimpered when Dimitri pulled his fingers out, shuffling back a few steps to pull off his pants.

Adam tried to shuffle around onto his knees on the chaise, but Dimitri placed a gentle hand on his shoulder and stopped him from moving. “I want to see that pretty face, _zvyozdochka._” Dimitri smirked, and Adam barely contained his eye roll. Dimitri knew Adam _hated_ all of the terms of endearment the Russian seemed to pepper into their conversations, but a part of Adam also loved it and he was sure that Dimitri knew that just as well.

“Have it your way, just put it in me,” Adam winked, lounging back and sprawling across the chaise, letting his legs fall open invitingly wide. He palmed his own cock just to take some of the edge off as Dimitri got a pillow from the bed and placed it under Adam’s lower back, tilting his hips up.

Once lubed, Dimitri grabbed hold of his ankle and put it over his shoulder, then lined up and used both his hands to spread Adam wide open so he might position his thick head just inside his rim. Feeling Dimitri’s hands groping him open, deja vu overwhelmed Adam and he threw his head back, lost in a shocked sort of reverie of humiliating feelings he could neither name nor place. His ass clenched up around Dimitri, who whimpered in response and looked up at him in concern.

“Don’t fucking stop,” Adam demanded, more insistently than he had intended. It suddenly felt vital for him to feel something inside him, something comforting and strong like what Dimitri could provide. Dimitri hesitated, but nodded, looked down where they just began to join and slid himself in.

The sensation passed over him in waves, first a shuddering rawness that made him gasp, followed by the familiar fullness that Dimitri’s thick cock provided. He canted his hips up, accepting the feeling eagerly, wanting to suck him in further and faster than Dimitri was willing to let them go. For his part, Dimitri pushed in slowly, agonizingly so, regardless of how much looser Adam felt than normal, how his well-used insides didn’t cling the same way they so often did around him when he first pushed in.

Still, the heat around his cock was remarkable, and he hissed his pleasure, pressing his lips to the inside edge of Adam’s ankle. “Fucking _malysh,_ what did they do to you? You’re so greedy for me.”

Adam let out a mewling whine, having quickly recovered from the initial burn, and now wanting nothing more than absolutely everything Dimitri could give him. He writhed on Dimitri’s cock, bucking his hips up so that he might pull him in deeper, faster.

“Yes, fuck me, fuck me,” Adam babbled. Dopamine flooded through him, making him feel unbruised and pliant, willing to be pulled whichever way Dimitri needed him so long as he could keep feeling this good.

When finally he bottomed out, he locked himself inside and stared down at Adam adoringly. Adam allowed the bit of intimacy for a moment, before purposefully clenching his hole tight around Dimitri’s thick base, encouraging him on.

“Adam,” Dimitri groaned at the tight pressure before pulling nearly all the way out and thrusting back in; his cock was large enough that it was impossible to miss Adam’s battered prostate, and he found himself getting close far quicker than normal.

Something about being on his back left him feeling exposed and vulnerable, even though he logically knew that it was Dimitri pressing him down, his weight a welcome force usually. He sunk his claws into Dimitri’s hips, scrambling for purchase. He needed to change their position before his heart beat its way entirely out of his chest.

He allowed Dimitri a few more good thrusts, it felt good to be filled so wholly even if the pressure was causing him to be flooded with pale imitations of memories. It burned, acrid like stale cigar smoke, at the back of his mind, hazy and disjointed images flashing too quickly for him to grab.

“Wanna ride you, let me get in your lap, Daddy,” Adam breathed out in a keening whine, pushing frantically at Dimitri.

The Russian took notice of the flash of fear on Adam’s face, but he knew the boy would be enraged if he suggested they stop again so he simply listened to his request, flipping them with ease so that he was the one with his back pressed to the damp velvet of the chaise and Adam was straddling his lap.

Adam didn’t even pause before lifting his hips and slipping Dimitri’s cock back inside, sliding home immediately and gasping at the fullness. He slammed his hips down, far rougher with himself than Dimitri had been with him. He grabbed Dimitri’s hand and placed it to his flat lower abdomen, eyes dark as he watched the man respond to feeling his cock buried deep inside of Adam’s body, so large that it could be felt from the outside.

Dimitri let out a low, satisfied growl, pushing down on Adam's taut stomach and feeling the slide of himself inside. A look of awe crept over his face, he adjusted himself so he might have a better position to piston himself up into the boy above. He spread his fingers wide to watch the slight bulge protrude and recede with Adam's movements.

"You need to eat more," he admonished, pressing hard against his own cock lodged in Adam's lower guts.

Adam let out a surprised laugh, the sound bursting within the quiet room. It served to quiet his anxiety, remind him of who he was sharing himself with. "As if you don't love it," he gasped, then slammed himself down hard on Dimitri's cock while sucking in his stomach so that the jut of meat was ever more obvious under his hand. It felt good to feel this claimed, this connected. He bowed his head and picked up the pace.

It was the pulsing of Dimitri's cock as he came into Adam that eventually pushed him over the edge as well. He shuddered and writhed as he impaled himself fully, letting Dimitri try to make desperate aborted thrusts to push his seed deeper in. He imagined how good it would feel to be flooded by the man below him, and clenched down involuntarily.

Once he was done, he didn't dare pull off. Here felt safe, more so than usual. In a rare act of intimacy, he leaned himself forward and rested his head in the heavy padding of Dimitri's chest hair. Shocked for a moment at the tenderness of it, Dimitri eventually responded, wrapping his arms snuggly about Adam's thin frame. Like that, they dozed.

* * *

  
Nigel was just stepping out of his apartment complex when he was slammed full force back into the doorframe. An angry Russian, a few years older than himself, had him pinned hard, his hairy arm pressed deep into his pecs, a snarl curling his thin lips.

“This is a nice fucking place you’ve got, _pizda._ Maybe you should give Adam an apartment here after the shit you pulled last night.”

“Who the fuck -” Nigel tried to seethe out but the arm just moved up his chest and to his throat, applying enough pressure that he began to cough.

“Don’t even pretend not to know who I’m talking about, Nigel. My poor boy is covered in the evidence of what you did to him.”

Two thoughts occurred, one cascading immediately after the other. First: _Excuse me?_ Who the fuck was this man to _his_ Adam? Then: Oh, shit. Nigel was catching fucking feelings. Again.

He put his nails into the arm against his windpipe until he drew blood and the man hissed and dropped his arm. The Russian was bigger than Nigel was, but Nigel was far angrier. He didn’t appreciate getting jumped at his own fucking apartment. No one even knew where he lived, so how had this fucker even found him?

“I don’t know who the fuck you are, but I’m not the man you want to fuck around with,” Nigel growled, holding the man by the shoulder against the wall.

“You and your fucked up games have destroyed Adam, I’ve never seen him like this. I don’t know what you’re using him for, because he won’t fucking tell me, but it ends. Now. I don’t want you seeing him again.”

Nigel could only give a passing thought to how fucked up Adam might actually be before he was in this stranger's face, snarling. “You’ll be lucky if you see another sunrise, old man,” he leaned even closer and kissed the man on the mouth, holding him tight to his lips with a hand against the back of his head.

He spat on the ground beside them and stalked off. If he was going to find fucking Adam, no one had to know.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Adam hesitated another moment before he opened the box, bursting out in laughter when he saw what was tucked within. “You brought me fucking edibles?” He asked once he’d calmed down enough to breathe properly, taking the small information card out of the package that included the THC content details and ingredients list. 
> 
> “Bitches like fucking chocolates,” Nigel grumbled under his breath as if in answer, rubbing his hand against the nape of his neck.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just mostly some fun, recreational drug use.

Adam opened the door on the fourth buzz. He wasn’t expecting anyone, didn’t know anyone around except through Dimitri, and he wasn’t feeling up to seeing even him. His visit earlier had been the salve he needed over the rawness of the previous evening, but now the idea of the tenderness Dimitri seemed to crave from him felt like an exhausting proposition. 

Nigel caught the door with his foot when Adam tried to slam it shut again upon seeing who it was. Fucking cheap-ass apartment and its dirty peephole. Nigel pushed the door open again and slid himself into the small apartment.

“Alright, kid?” he asked, moving through the apartment like it was his own. He walked to the kitchen and pulled down two highball glasses from the cupboard. Cracking open the clearly home-made bottle of _ţuică,_ he poured each of them a healthy serving. 

Adam watched him with a growing sense of unease; that night had come back to him in brief snippets, but large swaths of it were still completely missing from his timeline. He remembered feelings mostly, and apart from an initial burst of enthusiasm at the beginning of the evening, the rest was betrayal and panicked anger. He didn’t need to remember the whole evening to know that whatever had happened was Nigel’s fault.

“What do you think you’re _doing_ here?” he cried, refusing the glass when Nigel offered it in his outstretched hand. 

“Who the fuck is Dimitri Alexeev?” Nigel said, apropos of nothing. Adam’s blood ran through him, icy cold.

“What do you want with Dimitri?” he asked quickly, absently taking the drink when offered a second time and swallowing a great gulp of it.

“Fucker threatened me just now. On _your_ behalf,” Nigel filled Adam in, taking a slower sip of his drink, then lighting a cigarette. 

Adam walked over to the chaise where just the day before he’d been fucked senseless by the man in question. He slumped down onto it and rubbed one hand over his face. “You think I sent someone to threaten you?” he asked, laughing at the absurdity of it. He was angry with Nigel, betrayed by Nigel, but he wasn’t a fucking lunatic. The last night in the club had assured him that he wasn’t a man you fucked with.

“If you didn’t, then why the fuck does he seem to care so much about what happened to you the other night?” Nigel asked, flipping a kitchen chair around to sit backwards on it while he smoked. 

Adam let out a long, pained breath. “Jesus fucking Christ, Dimitri,” he swore, unconsciously scratching at one of the scabs that had formed on his thigh. He knew him to be protective, but this was dangerously stupid. 

“Don’t hurt him,” he said instead of replying. “Please?” He added, trying to placate the seething man in front of him. 

“Tell me who he is and I’ll fucking take it under consideration, kid,” Nigel growled around his cigarette, his body tense. 

Adam sighed, closing his eyes against everything. The entire situation was so far out of his control and he wasn’t comfortable with it at all. He felt like a prey animal with Nigel so close, every instinct screaming at him to _flee._ But Adam Towers had never backed down from anything and he wasn’t giving up on this story now. 

“He’s, I guess he’s like a father to me. Treats me better than my own father, anyway. He’s always taken care of me. He saw me after -“ Adam paused, gulping down a breath and trying to calm the shiver that ran through his entire body at another press of sense memory, the tacky feel of blood on his skin. 

Nigel flinched openly at the implication, at the reminder of how he’d failed this kid that night. Adam might be an annoying little cock-sucker, but Nigel had promised he’d protect him and he’d not kept up his end of that promise. Nigel was a proud man, and while he might not be a good one, he kept his promises. 

“Look, I’m sorry about the other night. That wasn’t how things were supposed to go.” 

Nigel let out a breath, turning around to grab something off the counter behind him. He seemed to hesitate, as though unsure of whether he was going to share the item with Adam, but eventually resolved himself to action. 

“I brought a fucking peace offering. Darko said this place was legit.” 

Nigel tossed a gold and red box, complete with a ribbon, in front of Adam. Adam curled in on himself a bit, but composed himself quickly, looking warily down at the box. 

“What is it?” He picked it up daintily, like it might explode if he touched it too roughly. 

“Just fucking open it,” Nigel snarled. He really wasn’t patient enough for this shit. For apologies and guilt and fucking _feelings._ This wasn’t what he’d signed up for when he first found Adam in his club. He should have just fucking killed him then. 

Too goddamn late now. 

Adam hesitated another moment before he opened the box, bursting out in laughter when he saw what was tucked within. “You brought me fucking edibles?” He asked once he’d calmed down enough to breathe properly, taking the small information card out of the package that included the THC content details and ingredients list. 

“Bitches like fucking chocolates,” Nigel grumbled under his breath, as if in answer, rubbing his hand against the nape of his neck. 

“Bitches like fucking chocolates?” Adam repeated questioningly and shook his head. “Well dig in, I have nothing going on this afternoon.”

Nigel eyed the box warily: it wasn’t his regular choice of drug. _What’s the fucking harm?_ he told himself, and popped a couple of bonbons into his mouth. They tasted vaguely dirty, but he had to admit this was a much better way to get high than smoking the skunky stuff he smelled around the club. 

Adam let out a snicker before taking a single chocolate and taking a small, considerate bite. He raised his brows as if in approval and set the box back. “I guess you don’t have much to do today either, huh?” he asked, looking at the half-empty box and smiling.

“What’re you on about?” Nigel spat defensively before taking a swig of his drink.

Adam tried to contain his laughter and ended up only smirking. “It’s nothing, honest.”

“We’re alright then?” Nigel asked, angry at himself for the way the phrase came out as a question rather than a statement. What was this kid doing to him?

Adam let out a big sigh and leaned back onto the chaise. He was quiet for a time, and addressed the ceiling more than Nigel when he did eventually speak. 

“I don’t remember a lot of what happened, Nigel, and I suspect you had something to do with that. But what I can remember - what I can see over my body,” he paused dramatically to lift up his shirt and reveal the mottled coloring of his torso where boots had kicked and hands had grabbed at him. “I’d say we’re not fucking okay, no.”

Nigel let out an angry huff, standing up from the turned chair and stalking over to where Adam lay, unperturbed. “Listen, little cock sucker, I said I was fucking sorry.” He jabbed a finger into Adam’s chest in emphasis. “What more do you want from me?”

Nigel watched as Adam refocused himself to stare back at Nigel. After everything he’d put this kid through - and he really was barely more than a child, this 20 something _kid_ \- he still wasn’t scared of him. Pride sparked in his chest: just a flicker before he tamped it out. 

“Leave Dimitri alone,” Adam offered, before elaborating. “Leave him alone and… and eat two more of those chocolates,” He looked at Nigel, laughter playing just behind his eyes. 

“Then we’ll be even?” Nigel asked.

Adam gave a small little smile and nodded. “Then we’ll be even.”

He reached back and grabbed two more bonbons, popping them into his mouth and swallowing without barely tasting them. “Fucking that’s better then.”

Adam smirked around another small bite of the chocolate; it was good, creamy with a slight spice to it. Clearly Nigel was new to the concept of edibles, probably more accustomed to the harder stuff, and Adam would be lying if he said he wasn’t the least bit interested to see how Nigel would react. 

The first time Adam had taken edibles he’d went to bed high and woke up still feeling a bit high after eating far too many in far too short a time span. 

“I don’t want to know any details, but do I need to get tested, Nigel?” He got somber for a moment, touching the subject he’d been most afraid to broach. 

Nigel scoffed, eating another chocolate. “I made sure the fuckers were clean, cock-sucker. I’m not going to damage my product beyond use, am I?” He grinned a little, trying to lighten things up. Truthfully, it was getting more and more difficult for him to see Adam as just a commodity, something to be used up, to come in. He’d started to see him as a person, with his soft curls and his pouty lips and his pretty cheekbones. _Fuck, not this shit again._

“What shit?” Adam asked, a curious look pulling his lips down in a slight frown. Nigel hadn’t realized he’d been talking out loud, but fuck it. It was out there now, might as well go balls in. 

“You, uh, you’re a pretty boy, Adam. I was just thinking about what else we could do for each other,” Nigel deflected a bit, losing some of his steam. 

“Pretty, huh? Thought I was just a cock-sucking whore?” Adam teased, sprawling out wide on the chaise, one leg on each side as he slowly started to let himself sink into the warmth of the simmering high that was just beginning in the corners of his mind. 

“You’re _mine_,” Nigel growled, shaking his head as if to clear it. “My cock-sucker, my whore. Mine to do with as I want.” 

“That so? And what is it you want, _Daddy?_” Adam ran his fingers playfully along his inner thigh before he burst into giggles at the look on Nigel’s face. “I’m only teasing. So, you’ve never done edibles before, huh?”

Nigel ate another chocolate and stared him down defensively. “What makes you say that?”

\---

Forty minutes later, it was everything Adam could do not to break out in laughter at Nigel’s devolving reaction to the chocolates. He’d given up sitting about a quarter-hour ago as the edibles began to hit, and was now prowling the small apartment repeatedly checking the locks and sights from each window.

“You know kid, you picked a lousy fucking place to stay. Too many look outs - they could get you from three different directions!” Nigel sounded astounded that Adam would have ever considered renting such a targetable abode.

Adam chuckled. He felt warm and hazy, just the way Nigel might have felt if he’d stopped at one or two bonbons. As it happened though, Adam could tell he was trying - and failing miserably - to hide the waves of paranoia that were beginning to hit him.

“Nigel, please, you’re making me dizzy. Will you sit down? I can get you something to drink?” he asked, motioning to the empty glass by his abandoned chair. 

Nigel stood to the edge of the window, peering out before making a quick beeline for the one on the opposite wall. He chewed his lip. “Look, cocksucker, I don’t like the look of that guy.” 

He paused and then pulled his gun from the waist of his pants and aimed down at an unsuspecting pedestrian below. 

Adam jumped up from his repose on the chaise and bolted towards Nigel. “Woah! Nigel!” He shouted, holding his hands up in front of his chest. “Woah woah woah woah, it’s okay. That’s nobody, you’re just experiencing some mild paranoia. It’ll pass, put the fucking gun down!”

Nigel stole a glance at him, flitting his gaze back and forth between Adam and the older target that seemed to be standing shiftily outside. He didn’t fucking care if it was a bus stop - he didn’t look like he _belonged._

“Promise it’ll pass, now just take a deep breath and put the gun away,” Adam suggested, motioning for Nigel to toss the gun onto the bed.

Nigel rubbed at his brow with the end of the gun, considering. Shifting back and forth between outside and Adam, he finally nodded curtly, unloaded the clip and threw both pieces onto the bed. 

“This feels fucking weird, Towers. What did you do to me?” he demanded, wheeling around to corner Adam against the wall. 

Adam’s voice came out low and soothing, “Shh, it’s alright baby. It’s just the chocolate. It’ll pass, I’ll take care of you,” He put his hand out tentatively to a stray piece of hair and when Nigel didn’t bolt, tucked it neatly behind his ear. Adam smiled, “There now. Let’s just sit down, okay?”

Adam had never called him _baby_ before and it was enough to allow Nigel to let himself be guided to the bed where Adam crawled in and sat cross-legged in the center, grabbing one of the bottles Nigel brought with him and taking a long swig from it, straight from the bottle. 

He offered it to Nigel with a smirk. “You shouldn't've had so much chocolate,” Adam chuckled, pulling on Nigel’s hand until he joined him on the lumpy mattress. Nigel took the bottle, over half empty now, and took a swig. His mouth felt dry.

Nigel had been unsteady on his feet, but sitting down on the bed felt like being tossed around on the ocean, like he was sinking into a fucking cloud. 

“A cloud, huh?” Adam laughed, and Nigel really needed to fucking stop saying shit out loud without knowing. 

“Yeah, a goddamn fluffy cloud. And you’re the little cocksucking angel I was promised,” Nigel tossed back at him, shifting closer on the bed. 

He felt loose but also heavy, like he was stuck to the spot he was in. It felt like moving through quicksand just to scoot a few inches closer to Adam. 

“That could be arranged, if you’re good,” Adam grinned wickedly, eyes glinting in the fading light of the late evening. The sun was nearly all the way behind the horizon now, the last lingering tendrils looked like bloody fingers scraping along the floorboards. Nigel blinked and the image faded. 

It took him a moment to catch up, realize Adam was making fun of his cocksucking angel joke. He doubted the kid would ever let him touch him again after the shit he’d pulled. 

“I wouldn’t say never,” Adam frowned, some of the joy leaving him, a brief flicker of pain across his face had Nigel reaching for him, their hands overlapping on the overly warm sheets. Adam, surprisingly, didn’t immediately flinch away.

Nigel really fucking hated weed. Never again, he decided, before pouring out _feelings_ like a fucking pussy. “Look, Adam-“ he used his real name and that caused Adam to look up in surprise. “I’m fucking sorry. I let you down and I fucking failed. I don’t like fucking up.” 

Adam nodded along, his pupils large dark holes in the center of his eyes. Nigel sort of thought he could get lost in them. “Nigel, I’m not gonna tell you everything’s alright, ‘cause it’s not. But I’d mostly just really like to fucking forget whatever happened and move on. I’m alive, mostly intact, I don’t care about the messy details. I said we’d be even if you leave Dimitri alone, but I have one more request about him.” 

Nigel tried to nod to indicate Adam could continue, but his head felt so heavy. Adam went on anyway. “He came to Romania to escape some bullshit in Russia. It isn’t my story to tell - for once - but I’d consider us a fresh slate if you’d maybe help him out?” 

He tried to think hard about Dimitri and what Adam had told him about the guy; what he’d managed to pull up before coming over here, but it was like trying to hold sand in a sieve. Every thought he had felt equally important and dismissable. He could notice them coming into his mind, try to grasp hard onto a detail so it might remain, but then felt oddly at peace each time they inevitably slipped away again. 

He managed to make a non-committal grunt towards Adam, then turned his head towards him to make sure he understood. Dimitri was nothing to Nigel, beyond a sudden troublesome annoyance. It shouldn’t matter to him whether he let him off the hook, or even if he let him help a bit around the club. But he had also made a promise to Dimitri - that kiss was more than just intimidation, it was Nigel’s signature method of marking someone as his target. If Dimitri had been connected enough to find out where Nigel lived, surely he would know the meaning behind their parting kiss. He couldn’t just let him get away scott free. 

He grunted again and skewed his focus hard to try to communicate all of this to Adam. Conscious speech seemed more effortful than he could manage; he hoped some of his fleeting thoughts slipped up and moved his tongue. He was sure whatever he managed to say didn’t convey the right depth of his conflict, but it was hard to care. He felt he was sinking deeper into the bed, melting into the mattress. 

Adam looked at Nigel with a measure of amusement - he was clearly too high to carry on any sort of conversation, but he felt a sort of vindictive need to see him work. Maybe if he pushed the conversation a little, he might benefit from Nigel’s incapacitation. He reached over and slapped Nigel’s thigh. 

“Hey! Nigel! So you’ll do it? You’ll help him out?” Nigel made a sort of confused noise in his throat and Adam laughed. 

“Thanks, man, I knew you weren’t as rotten as Darko told me,” he lied, looking at Nigel intently to see if even revealing his partner’s shit-talking would garner more than a subvocal reaction. Nigel crumpled up his face in protest and began to try to rise up, but seemed to accept defeat by gravity and collapsed back onto the bed, closing his eyes. 

Adam watched Nigel’s chest rise and fall, his breathing growing heavier as the light shifted about the room. Carefully, he shimmied closer to Nigel, closing the distance between them so he could feel his radiant heat. It was cozy, having someone share his bed. 

When Nigel made no move to protest, he shifted over into the crook of his arm and laid down. Breathing in the smell of weed and cigarettes and an earthy scent that Adam was beginning to recognize as Nigel’s cologne, he closed his eyes and fell asleep. 

***

Nigel woke up still feeling stoned out of his mind, but he also had a burning arousal in the pit of his stomach, and the hard-on to prove it. Apparently, Adam was equally aroused; Nigel could feel the boy’s cock pressing into his lower back where he was curled around him. 

Nigel could honestly say he had never fucking _cuddled_ or spooned with another human since Gabi. It felt shockingly good in his current state, all of the places where their skin touched was like fire and ice sinking into his veins. 

“Stop wriggling, baby, trying to sleep,” Adam mumbled lazily into Nigel’s nape, stirring the baby-fine hairs there, and Nigel shivered in response. 

There was that fucking word again. _Baby._ No one had ever dared call Nigel that, not even sarcastically. Who the fuck was this kid and how was he turning Nigel so fucking soft? 

Nigel nearly purred his reply, shuffling back against Adam’s growing erection and letting it rub against the exposed skin of his lower back, smearing a pre-come trail. “Wanna play with you, gorgeous, can I suck you?” 

Nigel lazily managed to flip over so that he was facing Adam, their breath mingling into a haze of chocolate and stale marijuana between them. He kissed Adam’s forehead, nosing at the sweat-matted curls there. He felt disconnected but also wholly present, not like himself but also like exactly who he was meant to be. 

“Fuck, want you so bad, sweetheart,” Nigel groaned, slowly shifting down Adam’s body. The room tilted a little as he moved, but he felt safe and comfortable in the warm softness of the rumpled sheets. 

Adam had stripped down to just his boxers at some point in the night, so Nigel was met with a nude expanse of chest followed by soft curls of hair leading down beneath his underwear band. Nigel mouthed greedily at Adam’s cock through the already wet fabric, licking him through his underwear like he was starving for it. 

Adam groaned in satisfaction and pushed his hips forward into Nigel’s mouth. The heat of him was outstanding, the way he lathed at his cock incredibly arousing. He didn’t think Nigel had a gluttonous whore side to him, but here was evidence to the contrary. Adam thought he quite liked Nigel on edibles. 

“Mmm baby, you wanna suck me off, do you?” Adam teased, slipping his hand inside his damp boxers to pull out his cock. “Show me how much you want me.”

Nigel made a small noise before opening his mouth wide and closing it over his head. His lips pouted around the shaft and slathered him in spit as he moved down towards the base. It was sloppy and greedy and Adam was having a hard time not abandoning control, grabbing onto Nigel’s sandy grey hair and fucking into his waiting mouth. 

Instead, he tried to calm his fingers, running his nails gently over his skull. Nigel shivered appreciatively, then swallowed Adam down until the coarse hairs at his base tickled at his nose. He felt everything so much, each lick or suck or noise he could pull from Adam was ten times more satisfying than normal. His head felt hazy, like it was barely attached to his body, tethered down only by the rigid cock he locked his lips around. 

He felt the tension in Adam’s thighs, ran his hands down the dusting of hair there to relax him, to urge him on. He wanted this, he wanted Adam to lose control and thrust his cock down his lax throat. He pulled at Adam to try to encourage him, then rolled up and over to rest between his trembling legs. 

With the new angle, he was able to bob down a fraction further, and Adam let out a broken noise when he swallowed around him. When he couldn’t breathe anymore, he moved up, letting out a panting, satisfied sigh, before leaning forward again to suck on his weeping head. The mild flavor of Adam made his stomach growl; he swirled the slick around and over his slit before lapping it up. 

Looking up, he realized that Adam had shifted to get a better look at him working his cock. His head was tilted slightly sideways, a half-open grin plastered on his face. “Never took you for such a greedy cock slut,” Adam said, thrusting his hips up a fraction to keep himself sheathed in Nigel’s warm mouth. “I love it.”

Nigel let out a sort of distracted chuckle, then grabbed at his own aching cock through his pants. Adam noticed. “Take off those clothes for me, big shot. Show me how hard sucking my cock has made you.”

Nigel nearly _whimpered_, sending vibrations all along Adam’s cock as he slipped him back into his throat all while shuffling to remove his pants and underwear. The pants were easy enough to get around his knees, but then he got stuck. Removing his boxers, however, he realized would require him to stop sucking Adam’s cock, and he honestly wasn’t sure he could. 

His eyes fluttered closed and he whined with his tongue pressed firmly to the underside of Adam’s length, pressing down until his nose was again nestled in his soft pubic hair. Nigel practically nuzzled there, feeling too good to stop. 

“Oh baby, you just want it so much, huh? Need a cock so bad.” Adam laughed, and pushed his hand against Nigel’s shoulder, trying to encourage him to lift up. “If you want my cock inside you, all you gotta do is ask.” 

Nigel’s eyes flashed open at that. Adam was already _in_ him, but how much more amazing would it be to have that cock sink into his ass? Nigel couldn’t remember the last time he’d taken a cock, or anything more than the occasional sneaky finger from a hooker paid to keep her mouth shut. 

And suddenly, Nigel had never wanted anything more than to have Adam’s cock buried inside him. He scrambled to his knees, stroking his obscene bulge through his soaked boxers. “Want you to fuck me, darling, please,” Nigel wasn’t accustomed to asking for shit, he always took what was his and never thought much about the details. But he’d do anything to have Adam inside him. 

“I’m bettin’ you don’t do this often. How about you lay on your side for me, baby. Let me open you up nice and sweet on my fingers, get you relaxed, hm?” Adam guided Nigel to lay on his side and leaned over him to get the lube from his bedside drawer. He bypassed the condoms there, deciding he absolutely needed to come inside the man practically writhing beside him. 

As Adam leaned over him to collect the lube, Nigel nipped at his hip where it hovered over his face, licking at the gentle bite mark almost playfully. This was a side of Nigel Adam had never expected, and he loved it so far. 

Adam settled down behind Nigel, lifting his leg so that it was slightly elevated, giving him more room to press a searching finger between Nigel’s crack, petting at his hole and feeling the muscle twitch. 

Nigel clenched at the first finger as it pet across his rim and Adam laughed a twinkling sort of noise. “Shh, darling, it’s alright. Open up for me, let me make you feel real good,” Adam reassured, then pressed one lubed finger past the first ring of tense muscle. 

He groaned, feeling the wriggling digit just breaching his entrance. He tried to relax, while at the same time squirming around the intrusion. He felt the burning stretch and pressed his face into his arm to contain the noises he wanted to let flow from his lips. 

“So fucking tight, Nigel. You’re going to feel so good on my cock,” Adam breathed into the tender skin just behind his ear. He pushed his finger in a bit more and curled it slightly, making Nigel growl.

“God, more,” he panted, pressing his ass into the single finger caressing his insides. His hand ran up and down his side as he reveled in the tingling sensation that pulsed across his skin wherever his nails lightly scratched. 

“Alright, baby. I’ll let you fuck yourself on my fingers,” Adam teased, nipping gently at the base of Nigel’s neck. Nigel imagined himself working hard on Adam’s cock and started pumping his hand faster over his own. 

Adam’s index finger rubbed lightly at his hole, slicking lube wherever he touched. He couldn’t wait; he wanted him inside already. He clenched dissatisfied around the finger and pressed himself insistently backward. 

His body swam with sensation as Adam pushed in a second finger beside the first, immediately pressing in until both were knuckle deep and able to crook in just the right way. The first touch to his prostate made him flinch, but as Adam continued to caress him inside, he gradually sank into the feeling, letting out a rumbling moan and started to rock his hips in time with the movement. 

“Fuck, Adam, just fucking stick your cock in me, want you inside now,” Nigel groaned, but he didn’t stop pumping his hips back against the intrusion, enjoying the slight burn as Adam’s fingers stretched his rim. 

“Alright, alright. Do you want it like this, Nigel? Want me pressed up close while I slide into you?” Adam was practically purring against Nigel’s nape and he wanted more of this, more closeness and to just be fucking full.

Adam chuckled wickedly, stirring Nigel’s hair, which caused Nigel to laugh at the sensation. He’d never felt so light, like he could just float away and everything would be okay. 

“You’re still talking when you don’t realize it, I think. Man, I need to get you high all the time,” he nipped playfully at Nigel’s shoulder before adjusting them so that his arm hooked under Nigel’s leg, holding it up and at an angle so Adam could slick up his cock and rut it between his cheeks. 

Adam let go of Nigel’s leg long enough to pour out some more lube and spread it over his cock, applying all of the excess to Nigel; he wanted to ensure this was good for Nigel and he didn’t spend too much time thinking about why that was. 

He lined himself up and teased at Nigel’s hole, bumping up against it with the wet tip of his cock, hissing between his teeth when relaxed muscles started to part for him slowly.

The tightness Nigel felt made him whimper. He instinctively clenched, making a rumbling satisfied noise when it pulled an unexpected gasp from Adam behind him. 

“Shh, don’t fight it. Let me fill you up, just like you want,” Adam cooed into his ear, then nipped at the lobe teasingly. When the sensation only made Nigel squeeze again, he let out a struggling sort of laugh.

Slowly, Nigel began to relax into the stretch. Adam pressed in gradually but insistently, rocking his hips forward and back at fractions of an inch so the glide in felt like it took ages. Once he was used to the feeling, he craved it faster, but Adam seemed to sense his impatience and grabbed hold of his hip to better control the pace. Soon enough, he felt the pressure of Adam’s heavy balls press up against the backside of his ass. 

“God, you feel so tight, I bet you don’t get fucked nearly enough,” Adam breathed, pushing himself up and into the soft flesh of his ass. 

A shiver of embarrassment ran through him, but it floated away nearly as soon as he identified it. No, he definitely didn’t let himself get fucked enough, he thought. Adam snickered behind him and then pulled out just enough to plow back in. _Fuck,_ Nigel thought, _No more thinking outloud._

“It’s alright, baby, I think it’s cute the way you want it so bad,” Adam teased, then let his teeth graze against the back of Nigel’s neck. He released his hand from his hip and found Nigel’s own, lacing their fingers together. The security Nigel felt - the wholeness - was a new feeling for him when fucking. He pulled Adam closer, canted his hips invitingly and let out a low moan.

The new angle only worked Nigel into more of a frenzy, Adam’s cock sliding along his swollen prostate with nearly every inward thrust. He was nearly feral with the need to come, and he wanted to see his release splashed across Adam’s flat stomach. 

He moved with a quickness he hadn’t been aware he could manage in his state, a small giggle escaping him at the surprised look on Adam’s face as he was thrown onto his back, stretched out against the sheets as Nigel straddled him. 

“Want you deeper,” Nigel rumbled down at him as he slid back until he felt Adam’s cock bump against his wet rim and he keened high in his throat. 

Adam recovered quickly, smirking up at the man astride him. He bucked his hips up playfully. “Go ahead, baby. Take it,” he taunted, letting his cock slide filthy wet along Nigel’s crack. 

He moved his hands to Nigel’s hips to help guide him as Nigel reached around to grab Adam and slip him back inside. They both let out a groan of approval at the new sensation.

Adam wrapped his smooth palm around Nigel’s length, dragging it slowly up and down his shaft as the man started up a punishing pace, harder and faster than Adam would have done on his own. 

“That’s it, Nigel. Ride my cock, sweetheart. You feel so good wrapped around me like a fucking whore,” Adam could tell this new position was doing wonders for Nigel as the man’s eyes fluttered closed and he moaned every time he slammed his hips down, almost violently. Adam wasn’t surprised at this development, Nigel was a violent, selfish and obsessive man, it tracked that he’d be the same when getting fucked. 

It took little time this way for Adam to feel like he was rushing towards the edge. He pumped Nigel’s cock more insistently, wanting to get him into a similar predicament. “Just like that, darling. Now come for me, come all over me, let me feel that sweet ass of yours spasm.”

Nigel practically mewled, then replaced Adam’s hand with his own. A few quick jerks did it: Adam felt muscles convulse around his cock, making him shudder in delight. Nigel threw his head back as he spilled his seed over Adam’s smooth chest. The jet of come fell over his torso, all the way up to his collarbone. 

Adam clenched at Nigel’s hips to keep him seated upon his cock so that he might experience the quivering throes of his orgasm. The spasm was so tight, he knew that if he moved in the wrong way, it would be over for him too. What was before him was such a precious gift; it seemed a waste not to milk it for all he could. 

Nigel appeared similarly unsatisfied. His breath still coming in strained huffs, he looked down to admire his release painted over Adam’s chest. An insatiable look flashed over his face. Then, without warning, he folded over and ran his tongue over the cooling come that had splashed across Adam’s breast. His movements were sloppy, greedy, and exactly what Adam needed to be sent over the edge. With a defeated whine, he pumped up twice before he let himself explode completely into Nigel’s still-tight ass. 

Feeling Adam’s cock twitch as his hot come rush into him, Nigel sighed a blissed-out noise and wriggled his hips in satisfaction. “Fuck yes, gorgeous. Filled me up so well, don’t wanna lose any.”

Not normally a particularly possessive lover, the way Nigel whimpered pulled something fierce within Adam and he growled appreciatively. Pushing on one hip in suggestion, he and Nigel flipped over so that he was now resting between Nigel’s lean legs, his sticky front making a mess of Nigel’s chest hair. He stared down at Nigel in wonder before pulling himself up carefully, making sure he stayed well sheathed in Nigel’s still pulsing hole. 

With Nigel’s hips tilted upwards, Adam finally pulled out, admiring the way his hole blinked at the loss of what had filled him. Immediately he let out a needy groan upon seeing the wet, white mess that peaked out from Nigel’s rim. He rubbed the head of his cock over Nigel’s hole, teasing the head in a fraction to pull out more of his milky come. The sight made him feel territorial and primal in the most delicious way. 

Adam collapsed with a huff, burying his face in Nigel’s sweaty neck and pressing a few kisses there. He wasn’t normally overly affectionate after sex, but Nigel was bringing out a different side of him.

***

Nigel wasn’t sure how he felt about waking up in the morning, curled around his fucking cocksucker like a goddamn pussy. Where the fuck had things gone so wrong last night? His memory was unfortunately perfectly intact and he could see, in glaring clarity, every moment. His needy, whorish begging Adam to fuck him, letting the fucker come inside him. The touch of Adam’s lips as they both drifted into sleep. 

He needed to get the fuck out before he did something he _might_ regret later, like finally putting that bullet in Adam’s head and just being rid of the entire fucking problem. 

He checked his phone, he had twelve missed calls from Darko and a string of increasingly angry text messages. He disentangled himself from Adam’s sprawling arms as carefully as he could, attempting not to wake the boy so that he could slip out without hassle. 

Nigel gathered his pants and stuffed his feet in his shoes. He couldn’t find his shirt so he grabbed the closest thing he could find - a soft red sweater of Adam’s - and threw it on. 

He was at the door with his palm on the handle when he heard the bed shift and knew he’d been caught. He stopped, his hand hanging uselessly in the air above the doorknob. 

“Don’t stop on my account. All you ever seem to do is fuck me up and then slink off like a fucking sleaze. Might as well keep your record clean,” The vitriol in Adam’s voice shivered down Nigel’s spine like ice water, setting his teeth on edge in barely suppressed rage. He needed to leave before he fucking hurt this kid. For real. 

So he did.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Just tell me how to make this right."

Adam took in the familiar, scrawny, sandy-haired Russian across from him. Gavrie, apparently, was a glorified lapdog for Popescu. Adam didn’t like surprises and seeing his old classmate, and Dimitri’s son, at his meeting with Alexandros was a big one.

Adam had been introduced to Alexandros through an unrelated third party, a guy at a party who he’d done some blow with. His new friend had claimed Russian mafia connections, but a lot of people glorified their actual paltry connections when high and trying to score so Adam hadn’t taken him seriously. Maybe he should have.

He’d now been informed that party-guy had been sent to him by Gavrie to begin their connection. What a small fucking world.

Adam hated how bigheaded working for a businessman like Alexandros had made Gavrie. He still remembered when they were in boarding school together, young and naive and full of themselves. But at least back then they had the potential to backup the ego.

“Why’re you such a, how you say, scaredy-cat all of a sudden, I thought you wanted your story,” Alexandros snapped his fingers to regain Adam’s wandering attention. He was the reason Adam was in Bucharest investigating Nigel’s ring in the first place.

At his first meeting with the man, Alexandros had told him enough about Nigel’s potentially massive smuggling business to have Adam salivating. It hadn’t taken much suggestion on Alex’s part to get Adam on board to help bring down Nigel’s gun trade. Alex had introduced himself as a businessman with drug connections, but Adam wasn’t stupid and he was beginning to see that it was much more than that. The hired muscle that guarded the entrance to an old, abandoned warehouse, having been a major indicator.

“Gavrie has already started laying the foundation for my expansion into the west, and I need Romania, Adam. The tradelines are well established in Bucharest, and I want a strong takeover,” Alexandros was pacing, which was never a good sign. Adam knew, now, that he was a dangerous man, he could be equally as dangerous as Nigel when provoked, but he didn’t have the same reach yet. His name didn’t yet carry the same clout. And it made him even more unpredictable in his moods.

Adam sighed, running his hand over his face in exhaustion. He hadn’t shaved in days, he was fucking exhausted and he just wanted this meeting to be over. “Alright, Alex. Alright. I’ll get what you want. I’ve already got Nigel’s attention, it’s only a matter of time before he slips up and feeds me enough to bring his empire crumbling,” He didn’t dwell overly long on the sick feeling in the pit of his stomach as he condemned Nigel so nonchalantly.

“Empire,” Alexandros scoffed, putting his cigarette out in the crumbling grey mortar of the warehouse wall. “Nigel Ibanescu is a fucking child with his hands out, waiting for the world to give in to his whims. _I_ will have an empire. People will respect what I represent, they’ll remember my legacy long after I am gone, because the business will continue on, will remain strong. It will be built on bedrock, where Nigel has built on sand.” He spits rudely onto the concrete floor, Nigel’s name a vile taste in his mouth.

Adam could see Gavrie swallow harshly even from several feet away, his watery grey eyes lit up with equal parts anger and fear. This wouldn’t play out well for him either if Adam wasn’t successful. Alexandros was just as likely to kill Gavrie for Adam’s shortcomings than to give him a second chance at finding another entry point to Nigel’s business.

“I will give you two days. No more. Get me what I want, gentlemen. There won’t be another opportunity.” He walked out without even sparing a glance back at the two men left in the room.

* * *

“We have a problem with your little cock-sucker,” Darko said by way of an entrance into Nigel’s back office the following evening. He threw a mass of papers onto the desk where Nigel was currently working and flopped himself down onto the worn sofa nearby.

“Come in, sit down, make yourself fucking comfortable,” Nigel growled, but closed his laptop and took hold of the papers he’d been tossed all the same. “What’s your problem with Adam now?”

“_Adam_?!” Darko spat in surprise. “We’re on a first-name basis with that problematic slut, are we?”

“Cut your shit, Darko. What’s the issue?” Nigel wasn’t in the mood to deconstruct his feelings (there’s that _fucking_ word again) for the boy, in large part because he wasn’t sure himself what he was feeling. Adam hadn’t made any attempt to contact Nigel since he’d walked out the other day: no impromptu visits to his back halls, no pesky meandering about the alley, no dramatic entrances to the cafe where he often did business during the day. He didn’t linger on what that could mean.

“He’s working for Popescu.”

The words felt like a slap in the face. On instinct, he threw the papers down as if touching them burned. He leaned back in his chair and glowered at Darko. “That’s a fucking serious accusation. You better not be talking out of your ass.”

“That Dimitri fucker you pardoned.” Nigels eyes narrowed further. Usually, Darko’s inability to keep his nose out of other people’s business was an asset. Nigel had mentioned that bit of information in passing though - he didn’t need a fucking school report dropped on his desk all about why he’d made the wrong decision.

“Spit it the fuck out, Darko. What’s your problem?” Nigel stood up and lit a cigarette, too impatient to look through the papers.

“He’s Gavrie’s _fucking father_.” Darko seethed, clearly disgusted with his partner for allowing this level of infiltration.

Nigel stopped pacing and looked at Darko, willing him on. “Popescu’s Gavrie?” Darko continued, “He’s fucking Gavrie _Alexeev_, Dimitri’s son. The same fucking Dimitri who threatened you and then because you can only think with your goddamn cock, had this little cocksucker of yours convince you to pardon.”

Nigel swept a stray hair behind his ear and cursed. “And you think Adam knows all of this?” Nigel asked defeatedly, knowing he wouldn’t like the answer he was about to get.

“Nigel, you fucking cunt. Adam met Dimitri when he was at boarding school. The same fucking _boarding school_ that Gavrie went to.” He let that sink in before adding, “They were fucking classmates.”

Well.

Fuck.

* * *

“So good with your mouth, myshka,” Dimitri moaned, spreading his legs even wider, letting them fall so that his feet landed on the floor on either side of the blue velvet chaise. Adam was on his stomach, pressed flat against the soft fabric, his shirt already tossed somewhere in the chaos of the late afternoon. His mouth moved smoothly along Dimitri’s shaft, well lubricated with his saliva as he made it as wet and messy as possible.

He knew Dimitri loved seeing him wanton and squirming needily for him, so he made sure to provide that image as he maintained eye contact with the panting man above him. He could feel the tears slipping down his cheeks as he gagged softly when Dimitri thrust his hips up, the Russian immediately cupping Adam’s cheek to thumb at the wetness. “You look so good like this, Adam. Such a pretty boy,” Dimitri sighed, tossing his head back on a long groan when Adam sucked lewdly at the head of his cock.

There was no warning knock, no sound at all, before Adam’s door slammed against the wall, the wood splintered irreparably by several gunshots against the frame and the force of the man who had just kicked it in.

Nigel stormed in, and Adam had never seen him look so angry. His face was flushed in a passionate red stain, his free hand clenched tightly at his side and his right hand holding his gun so firmly that his knuckles were bone white, his veins corded starkly beneath his skin.

“Nigel, what the fuck -” Adam barely had time to argue before Nigel had crossed the room, grabbing Adam by his hair and hauling him to his feet to be slammed against a bookshelf. The shelf shook, groaning in protest, as Nigel pressed him tight to the straining wood.

Dimitri had scrambled to a standing position, quickly doing up his pants and reaching for his gun. It was too far away and Nigel hissed at him, nodding very pointedly at the gun he now had pointed at Adam’s sweat-damp temple.

“I wouldn’t fucking try it, nenorocitule.” Nigel snarled, pushing the metal against Adam’s skin hard enough to leave a mark.

Adam opened his mouth to speak but Nigel backhanded him so hard his teeth rattled and his head was forced to the side. He could taste blood in his mouth where his lip had split at the impact.

“You double-crossing cock tease,” Nigel snarled, emphasizing every word with the press of his gun to Adam’s temple.

Adam, smartly, stayed silent this time, but confusion furrowed his brow and made his lips turn up somewhat in disgust. He had no idea what Nigel was on about, but whatever bad information he’d received, Adam needed to figure out - _quickly_ \- how to correct him.

“What, you just going to stand there and play dumb?” Nigel raged at Adam in contradiction.

He let up on the vice-like pressure of the muzzle to his forehead, and Adam let out a shaky, relieved breath. Too soon: Nigel pulled his arm back and swung, full force, into his face. Adam felt the sickening crunch reverberate across his skull, the pain shooting from where the steel met bone then traveling like lightning through his spine and limbs. Immediately, he felt the onslaught of a ferocious headache and squeezed his eyes against the pain.

Nigel let go of him and Adam staggered and fell, bringing several well-read books down with him. Instinctively, he moved one hand to cover where Nigel had struck, but he was so unsteady that the lack of support from both hands made him sprawl out on his worn wooden floors.

Dimitri cursed in Russian, then spewed a string of words at Nigel that even in good form would have been too quick for Adam to decipher. Between the echoing throbs of his head and the blood rushing past his ears, he heard Nigel spit something back at Dimitri in reply. This launched the two of them into a heated war of words, each person talking over the other, neither patient enough to listen to what the other was trying to say. Distantly, he felt a warmth for Dimitri, for he was undoubtedly trying to explain away - at gunpoint - whatever accusations Nigel was throwing his way.

Weakly, Adam got his arms and legs under him and clambered to all fours. His face was on fire with the pain, his cheek a bright point where it originated and radiated out from. Every jostling move made his vision pulse threateningly dark.

He focused enough to see Nigel had moved his aim away from Adam and had Dimitri squarely in his sight. Ignoring the ferocious hurt, he swung his head this way and that, looking for anything he could use as a weapon. In front of him, Nigel continued to rage at Dimitri. Adam was cognizant enough that this time when he tried to listen in, he recognized snippets of familiar people and phrases: Popescu’s sideman, Dimitri’s godforsaken son, something about a lying son of a bitch.

Time throbbed on, and at last he spotted where Dimitri had set down his gun. He’d have to make a dash halfway across the small room, but the path was covered by the chaise and Nigel seemed sufficiently distracted. Without looking to Dimitri so his gaze might not give him away, he lunged forward and covered the distance of the space in two leaps.

Nigel spun around and shot, but it went wide and further splintered the damaged wood of the front door instead of exploding the bones of Adam’s skull. It was a narrow miss, but it was enough: Adam grabbed at the gun and pivoted as he launched himself onto the floor. When he skidded to a stop, he lay pointing his gun in Nigel’s direction, who stood with his gun turned on him not ten feet away.

Adam groaned as his vision still swayed when he slowly raised himself to his feet, leaning heavily on the chaise as he tried to keep his hand steady where he was pointing Dimitri’s gun. Adam had never even held a gun before, but Nigel didn’t have to know that.

“Nigel, what the fuck is going on?” Adam panted, trying to catch his breath.

“You’re a fucking whore who’ill crawl into bed with anybody,” Nigel hissed, waving his gun wildly as he raged.

“It’s what I tried to fucking tell you! Adam didn’t know. Neither of us knew.” Dimitri was seething, Adam had never seen him so angry. A flush of pleased joy shot through him at the protective display.

“Not fucking likely seeing as your own goddamn son is practically riding Alexandros’ fucking dick,” Nigel pointed his gun at Dimitri instead, ignoring Adam for the moment, clearly underestimating him. True anger flashed behind Dimitri’s eyes; his son and him may not be close, but to slander family like that - to imply that Gavrie was actually working with that sleaze Alexandros - felt like a punch to the gut.

Adam flipped the safety off on the gun, he’d seen enough movies to have a vague impression of where and what the safety was and also how to hold the gun, and he aimed, firing one warning shot into the kitchen so that he kept a wide berth. He didn’t _actually_ want to hit Nigel, just get his attention.

When Nigel’s eyes were back on him, Adam squared off his stance to provide himself some additional stability. There was no use trying to deny what Nigel was accusing them of, not when he was this enraged. He tried a different tactic: “We really didn’t know, Nigel. I just found out earlier today and I was trying to figure out a way to fucking tell you.”

Dimitri’s head spun around to face Adam. He _had_ planned on telling him about Gavrie later… eventually. He had just needed to come up with a good reason for why he knew in the first place, without giving away his connections with Popescu. “Both of you.” He tacked on at the twin gazes.

“Was sucking his dick giving you any fucking ideas?” Nigel spat, taking a few steps closer. Adam kept his gun pointed at him, but his hand was shaking.

Adam ignored Nigel’s low blow, though having Nigel speak so disgustedly towards him sparked in him a sense of shame he was entirely unaccustomed to.

Nigel was mere feet away now; close enough to touch with hands outstretched. Despite everything - the gun to the head, the wild accusations - Adam found he still wanted to reach out. By fractions of an inch, he let his gun drop slightly and sighed.

“I don’t want to shoot you, Nigel. Please believe me, I was coming to you with the information today.” Adam let out, defeated. He hadn’t considered _this_ as the way he might be able to break the news to Dimitri, but here they were.

Without taking his gun entirely off Nigel, Adam snuck a glance in Dimitri’s direction. Dimitri cursed under his breath and raked his hands through his hair. Apart from this though, he stayed respectfully stoic. Not for lack of emotion, Adam knew; though Dimitri had never been as paternal to Gavrie as they managed within their own unconventional relationship, Adam still knew that he cared deeply for his only biological son. Hearing that Gavrie had not only followed in Dimitri’s ill-fated footsteps, and with Alexandros no less, must have stung him deeply.

“So it’s fucking true, myskha?” Dimitri asked, almost as an afterthought. Adam felt frozen with shame but managed to nod rigidly. “And you? You’re working for Popescu too then?” This time Dimitri was unable to keep the emotion out of his voice. It cracked on the last syllable. Adam could do nothing but look away.

He directed his reply at Nigel instead, realizing the man literally holding him at gunpoint was the lesser of two evils in this situation. How the fuck had he managed to end up here? “I came to Bucharest to investigate you, Nigel. At first, Alexandros Popescu was helping me to collect intel on your organization. I didn’t know who he was before I agreed to let him help me. I didn’t know until too fucking late what it meant to get help from a man like Popesco. I swear I only found out about Gavrie today. Dimitri didn’t know.”

Nigel snarled but motioned with his outstretched gun for Adam to continue. Adam’s own arms were aching with the effort of keeping the gun pointed towards Nigel; it was clear in his aim that his intention was half-hearted. “Nigel, please put the gun down. Let’s both - please.” He looked directly at Nigel pleadingly, then lowered his weapon and pushed it away from the three of them, towards the broken door. “Please,” he repeated.

Nigel also began to lower his gun. Instead of holstering it though, he swung around, took three quick steps towards Dimitri and pushed the barrel directly into his temple before Dimitri had enough time to react.

“Let me get this perfectly fucking clear,” Nigel began, practically hissing the words through his clenched teeth. “You want me to put my gun down - why? Because your fucking green ass didn’t know what kind of man Popescu was? Because you wanted to investigate _me_? Or because your little fucking papa-boyfriend here didn’t know what sort of a fuck-up son he had raised? Tell me, which fucking part is supposed to convince me I _shouldn’t_ kill you?”

Adam tried not to sigh. It wouldn’t calm any of them down if he let himself get worked up again, or if he antagonized Nigel. He was tired, bone-deep exhausted, and he felt like he could sleep for a hundred years. He was too young to be feeling so worn down.

“I’ll tell you everything. All of it. Just let him go.” He waited for eye contact with Nigel, caught the anger and confusion roiling beneath the surface of his eyes, they were dark, like whiskey on the rocks. “Please,” he added for good measure. He could see clearly that Nigel was more than just angry, he was hurt. Betrayed.

Nigel snarled, his nose curling in disgust as he flashed the white of his teeth in an animal warning, full of a frenetic energy that threatened to overwhelm him. He pushed Dimitri away hard enough that the man stumbled, hitting the ground hard with his knees. Nigel grabbed the closest thing to him, a cheap bottle of Riesling Adam had bought earlier because sometimes he liked sweet things when he was feeling sorry for himself, and threw the bottle against the far wall, the glass exploding on impact, crashing to the soaked wood of the floor in shattered pieces, sharp and dangerous, much like the man himself.

Adam didn’t jump, didn’t let himself release the gasp of shock that sat poised behind his teeth. Nigel was a man of actions, not words, and Adam knew he needed to release the tension in himself somehow, or this would all end bloody.

Adam gestured to the small sofa that sat, mostly unused, in the corner of the room. It was a tattered, moth-hole ridden thing that Adam tended to avoid. He preferred the soft, crushed velvet of the chaise anyway. Nigel huffed at the invitation to sit: he didn’t need to say in as many words that he wouldn’t be sitting down anytime soon.

Dimitri warily made his shaky way to his feet, crossing the room and collapsing onto the sofa with a dramatic huff. Adam could tell he was confused, hurt that Adam had been keeping things from him. Adam sighed, rubbing his hand roughly across his face to try and clear out the twisted, sticky cobwebs of his thoughts.

Adam moved slowly, wary of the gun still in Nigel’s hand. He went to sit beside Dimitri, but the hurt creasing his brow made him stop short, balancing instead on the torn up arm of the sofa.

“What can I say, Nigel? What do you need to know?” Adam asked.

Nigel paced the small living room space. Once, he kicked at a nearby chair, sending it scattering into the kitchen. He was a live wire, unable to collect himself enough to focus. “Fucking piece of shit little cocksucker,” was all he could manage through his teeth.

“What can I do?” repeated Adam, worried. Apart from a healthy survival instinct, something in him panged at having made Nigel so angry with him. He wasn’t even sure how he’d manage Dimitri’s disappointment, he didn’t think he had it in him to care about two men’s opinions of him.

Nigel was quiet for a long time. He quit pacing long enough to redirect himself towards the kitchen, grab a bottle of booze and pour the liquid down his throat. “Kill him,” he said at last, his thirst quenched.

“Excuse me?” Dimitri piped up, whipping himself around to look into Nigel’s wild eyes.

“You say he’s a problem for you. Got your daddy’s boy working for the big bad man. Say you didn’t know what it meant to get help from someone like Popescu. Let me fucking tell you, gorgeous,” he spat, directing his response to Adam and all but ignoring Dimitri, just a yard away.

“If Popescu thinks you’re in his debt, then you’re fucked. He’ll use you for whatever whim he has, bleed you dry as a stone before he throws you back, beaten and useless. You say he’s been helping you - for what, a _story_? Gotta fucking break this to you, Towers: you just sold your soul for a scoop. Popescu doesn’t _help_ anyone. He’s using you and it’s only going to get worse,” Nigel took another long swish, growling into the lip of the bottle. It alarmed Adam how much rage still roiled off of him. He’d really fucked up.

“Like you used me?” Adam’s voice was small, soft, and he hated how broken he sounded. Adam fucking Towers didn’t break for anyone. He was _fine,_ with whatever had happened that night. He was.

Nigel’s eyes flashed to him, a low growl in his throat but his eyes looked pained for a second. Just a brief flash of surprised guilt before he quickly pushed it away, an angry snarl twisting his lips. Before he could speak, Adam interrupted him.

“Okay. I miscalculated. I know that, but I -”

Nigel cut him off with a dismissive _tsk_. “Miscalculated. Fucking _tâmpit_,” he swore, then threw the half-emptied bottle clear across the room. It shattered, the pieces of wet glass scattering across the apartment floor.

Dimitri let out a string of Russian at that, seemingly in defense of Adam, if he could gauge anything from the way he gesticulated towards him. Adam listened at first, but soon raised his hand to quiet Dimitri’s defense of him. He didn’t feel like he deserved anything from Dimitri. Not now.

“Just tell me how to make this right, Nigel.” Adam said, pleading. “Please.”


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Now’s the time to decide: observe or participate.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No new tags, really. We hope you enjoy the penultimate chapter!

It turns out, how to make things right was exactly what Nigel had already shouted at them; he wanted Dimitri to kill Alexandros. 

Adam would help by asking for a meeting with Alex. The Russian underestimated Adam, and was unaware of the nature of his connection to Nigel so he’d most likely show up fairly unprotected. It would be the easiest way, their best chance to get to him with minimal potential for death. 

Adam swallowed around the pain in his throat, his esophagus felt rubbed raw with the salt of his held back tears. He refused to cry. Hadn’t cried even while Dimitri shouted himself horse. Didn’t cry when Dimitri had simply looked at him with a hurt, disappointed gaze and sighed. He wouldn’t cry now, either. He wouldn’t break. 

Nigel had left hours ago. Dimitri had left not long after, staying only long enough to talk things out with Adam. He’d been upset, that much was easy to see. But Adam knew the man was also scared shitless. Worried about what might happen to Adam, to himself, if he failed. 

The meeting with Alex would be tomorrow afternoon. For tonight, Dimitri had left Adam to go see his son, _his real son_ Adam’s traitorous brain supplied for him. Dimitri hadn’t seen Gavrie in over a year; he had never thought he might have been working for Popescu. 

Adam sat alone, feeling sorry for himself as he burned each individual page of his notes in the quivering flame of a candle, wax already half consumed by fire. With each fresh pile of ash that collected in a warped halo around the base, he thought of Nigel. And of Dimitri. He considered loyalty. Family. Love. Concepts that had always felt foreign to him, distant like a lush island far off on the horizon. 

He hadn’t known they were things he craved until the moment Dimitri had taken his hand and pulled him tightly to his chest, breathing in the scent of his hair and holding him close. He hadn’t realized how much love he had for the man until he had felt him shaking against him, refusing to break apart just as stalwartly as Adam refused to cry. 

Dimitri was his family. He loved Adam, flaws and all. He’d always been by his side, even before the sex. Even before the spiral Adam had taken. He’d provided Adam with safety and warmth and care that his own father never had. 

Nigel. Nigel was something that felt sharp, but form fitted. Thinking about him too much hurt, like staring into the setting sun; even though it was beautiful, it was painful. But he felt _something_ for the man. Something that didn’t feel hollow or void of substance. He wanted to press on it like the yellowed edges of the bruises still littering his body, wanted to see how much it would sting before it melted into something good. If it could ever even be good. 

His mind drifted to chocolates and verbalized thoughts, then to sharp blades and cigarette scars. He wouldn’t think of the snippets of _that night_ that were increasingly creeping up into his consciousness; he’d told himself he wouldn’t let it bother him. But he could linger on what happened after, the way Nigel had mended him carefully, virtually doting on him in the back room of the club. That it was the same man - the same man that’d just this evening come to kill him, left his face violent colors from his gun - made his thoughts turn around again and again in his mind. He felt dizzy. He felt sick. 

One final push and the bookcase slid into place in front of the door. That, combined with his dresser from the bedroom would have to suffice for privacy tonight. Looking at the shambles of his burst open door laid strewn about his apartment, he supposed it would be foolish to worry about locks. 

He rubbed his eyes with his palms and stifled a yawn. Taking heed of the glass crushed into the threadbare rug and lodged in the cracks of old wooden beams, he moved slowly through the apartment to the bedroom, hit the lights and collapsed into the nest of blankets on his bed. 

\---

Dimitri was exhausted, a bone weariness that went well beyond the side effects of the evening. Age and circumstance had made Dimitri tired. He’d spent too much time clambering to make a name for himself within the Russian mob, only to have that trust ripped away by a single deal gone bad. Now to be fifty three, without a family to have his back, and now recruited to solve Adam’s fucking problems? He was more than tired. After this, he thought, he was done. 

He walked the last few steps and knocked heavily on the apartment door. It took a few moments, but eventually he heard the shuffling of footsteps behind the door, the tell-tale pause of someone taking him in through the peephole. Time stretched out before him before he finally heard the deadbolt turn and the door opened. 

“Dad.” Gavrie said, somewhat warrily. He hesitated for a moment, then stepped back to let his father through. 

—-

Adam woke from an uneasy sleep to the sound of cursing and heavy shuffling as someone tried to get into his apartment through the makeshift door he’d made. 

He grabbed the large knife he’d taken to bed with him - he’d been unclear even then why he was doing it since he’d never actually used a weapon to protect himself - and curled into himself at the top of his bed, sheets falling around his waist as he watched and waited. 

After a few minutes, a figure appeared, squeezing in between the wall and the bookshelf. Adam prepared to flee, eyes darting around the room looking for the quickest exit, when the figure turned to him and he saw Dimitri’s face. He looked wrecked. 

“Bloody Hell, Dimitri. You scared the shit out of me!” He tossed the knife to the side as Dimitri’s eyes fell on it, an eyebrow raising in question. 

“Myshka, do you even know how to use that?” He sounded so tired, wrung out, and Adam couldn’t help the guilt that simmered back to life in his belly at the idea that he had contributed to that exhaustion. It wasn’t only Nigel that Adam had left feeling betrayed. His reaction had simply been the most visceral and violent. 

Adam patted the covers beside him in the bed, a peace offering. Things must not have gone well with Gavrie if Dimitri was back so soon. Adam caught the time on the small clock on his bedside table. It was only just past two in the morning. 

Dimitri sighed, rubbing his face aggressively before slipping out of his pants, and pulling his shirt over his head, leaving him in just his boxer-briefs. He climbed into the open space beside Adam, and settled in, throwing his arm out to allow Adam the option to cuddle into his side. 

Adam didn’t hesitate, immediately crawling into the open space Dimitri had left for him. It felt a lot like forgiveness. It felt painfully like love. 

—-

Nigel didn’t need to move the bookshelf to squeeze himself into the dark apartment, but he did oggle the set-up that swayed and swerved in his drug-addled vision. He crunched splintered door and broken glass under his loafers, slurring curses quietly to himself as he nearly tripped over the scattered chair. The apartment was nearly pitch black except for the glow from the street lights into the bedroom. With his eyes still poorly adjusted to the dimness, he could only just make out the outline of Adam’s slim frame in the sheets. 

Shucking off his shoes, he dropped his trousers and nearly ripped the buttons of his shirt in his haste to get himself down, smothering Adam’s lithe form. He had felt angry. Furious. And yet, when he’d gone to lament to Darko, he found he didn’t know where to begin. Who the fuck was Adam Towers to someone like Nigel? How did he have any right to work him up the way he had, just hours before? Where would he start in order to make Darko even begin to understand?

So he’d drank himself sloppy, convincing himself that the answer to _Who the fuck was Adam Towers_ lay somewhere at the bottom of the bottle. When the alcohol didn’t help but make his head swim, he broke his rules and dipped into his product, snorting two thin, long lines of junk. As he collapsed back into the worn leather of his office chair, all the rage, all of the frustration that he’d been feeling towards Adam slid out of his body and puddled on the floor.

When he came to enough to continue drinking, he found the liquid went down easier now, less bitter than before. His thoughts of Adam swerved and transformed, away from homicidal to nearly heartbroken. After the fifth drink, it started to become important that he return. As he finished off the bottle, it became an absolute necessity.

He climbed from the bottom of the bed to crowd over Adam, who stirred as the weight shifted on the mattress. He didn’t seem surprised at first, instead making a small quiet coo into the pillow and twisting to move himself onto his back before Nigel pressed the rest of his weight down onto him. 

Nigel leaned down, smelling the sweetness of Adam’s skin. He’d been drinking too, he could smell it in his sweat. He opened his mouth to suck greedily on the sensitive skin just before Adam’s curls, right below his ear. Adam made a greedy wanton noise, extending his neck to Nigel’s attention and dropping his legs down to splay his naked body below him.

“Mmm, taste so good, cock-sucker,” Nigel slipped out, the junk making his tongue slippery with praise.

Adam’s eyes flashed open at the sound of his voice, his hands flashing forward to press against Nigel’s naked chest and hold him back. “What the - Nigel?” he asked, suddenly wide awake. It made Nigel smile, the spark of surprise that lit up his ocean eyes causing a shiver of amusement to course through him. 

“Don’t fucking touch him,” Dimitri’s voice filtered in from beside them and they both turned, in tandem, to see him pointing his gun at Nigel from the deep shadows in the corner of the room. 

“Okay, Daddy bear, don’t twist yourself up. I’m not going to hurt him,” Nigel laughed, throwing his hands up sloppily in the air in mock defeat. Adam scurried up onto his elbows and then sat up fully in the bed, his back against the rusted metal rails of the headboard. 

“Nigel, what are you doing?” Adam looked so concerned, more than a little scared, and it twisted something up inside Nigel’s guts, his cheeks burning with guilt and shame and something altogether _other._

“I came to make up, gorgeous. Didn’t like how we left things earlier,” Nigel’s voice was gruff, the words sounded like they were being pulled forcefully from him. Adam raised an eyebrow and looked at Dimitri from over Nigel’s shoulder. Dimitri lifted his shoulder in a half shrug, content to let Adam dictate how they would proceed. 

Dimitri had known, at least since earlier that day and maybe even earlier than that if he was pressed to admit it, that Adam was developing feelings for Nigel. He’d never allowed himself to get attached to someone before, not this deep. And not for a story. The signs were all there and, when Nigel had shown up that afternoon with hackles raised and the sharp look of betrayal in his eyes, Dimitri had known that those feelings were reciprocated. 

“Me either,” Adam admitted softly, eyes falling to his hands where they sat clasped in his lap above the bedsheets before he looked up to capture Nigel’s gaze. Even as nervous as he was, Adam found he wanted Nigel. If he were honest with himself he’d admit he wanted them both, wanted to feel them potentially one last time before everything went tits up and he was left alone, or dead. Wanted to experience their pleasure as his own, find an outlet for release for all the feelings that threatened to boil out of him at any moment. He’d had a scream trapped behind his teeth all day, and he wanted to sigh it out against soft skin and plush lips. 

Nigel looked from Adam to Dimitri and then back to Adam, drinking him in. His skinny waist just barely peaked out above the rumpled sheets, his smooth chest and toned arms lightly sunkissed, Nigel imagined they would taste warm on his tongue. “Wonder what I -” he paused, another glance over his shoulder at Dimitri as the man nodded at him. “What _we_ could do about that, hm, darling?” Nigel’s grin was broad, blinding as he slid closer to Adam on the bed, one of his wide, warm palms falling onto Adam’s thigh as he held the other hand out in a peace offering to Dimitri. 

Dimitri’s lips curled in distaste. “You’re fucking high as a kite.” 

Nigel’s hand ran over the length of Adam’s thigh. He shrugged. “The fuck is it to you?” he said dismissively, then pivoted around to bury his lips once again into the sweet skin of Adam’s neck. 

The feeling spilled over his body, his cock pulsing awake and he leaned his head back and sighed. He revelled in the sensation of having Nigel roam over his sore body, his touch tender and wanting. He craved more. 

Sheepishly, he looked over to Dimitri who was still standing there awkwardly in his boxers, his gun still cocked and gripped tight in his right hand. 

Adam didn’t fail to notice the slight bulging Dimitri’s impressive cock made as it began to fill.

Shyly, more shyly than Adam had ever done much of anything, he batted his lashes towards Dimitri and held his hand out from around where Nigel was sucking purpling marks over the bruises on his skin. 

“Stay?” he asked, his voice breathless.

Dimitri shook his head in disbelief, though he moved to put the gun down on the dresser. “I’m not sleeping with your boyfriend.” 

Nigel grumbled something into Adam’s neck and pressed himself up. “I’m not fucking asking you to. But now’s the time to decide: observe or participate.”

Adam’s hand reached out into the empty space between the two men. “Please?” he asked reluctantly, trying to keep his focus on Dimitri when Nigel had returned his attention to the small nubs of his nipples, his one hand grabbing greedily at the growing bulge of Adam underneath the sheets. 

Dimitri ran a hand through his greased hair and cursed. He sat down cautiously on the bed, careful not to touch anyone but Adam. 

“Is this what you want, myshka?” he asked, quietly. Achingly slowly, he moved his hand over to Adam’s leg, and caressed the soft hairs on his thigh. 

A warmth bloomed through him that felt a lot like acceptance. Forgiveness. He looked, first to Nigel and then steadily at Dimitri. He nodded.

Dimitri shimmied up the sheets, resting on his side beside where Adam and Nigel lay caged together. Nigel nuzzled at Adam’s throat, practically purring in satisfaction for having him so close. Adam ducked his chin and took Nigel’s lips over his own, mewling into Nigel’s relaxed mouth. Blindly, he ran his hand up and down Dimitri’s muscled body until he found his hand, then clasped his fingers with Dimitri’s. Dimitri brought his fingers to his lips to lay soft kisses on the pads of every digit. 

Nigel shifted his weight onto one arm and caressed over Adam’s slim frame with the other, from just below the hip, up over the subtle curves of toned muscle, and up along his shoulder and arm. His hand sloppily found Dimitri there, and cupped his cheek while Dimitri took Adam’s fingers into his mouth and sucked wetly upon them. Dimitri was shocked still at the touch, but as Adam rubbed his fingers gently over his tongue, he hesitantly let the tension in his body ease by degrees. 

“Wanna taste you,” Nigel purred into Adam’s ear, then worked his way down his torso, flicking and nipping gently again at the pink nubs on his chest. Adam let out a breathless gasp, rolling his head back and blinking his eyes open to see Dimitri watching him intently, his tongue running along the sensitive skin of his fingers as he sucked.

Adam let out a shuddering cry when Nigel took his half-hard cock fully into his mouth. He could feel Nigel’s nose nuzzle into the coarse patch of hair at the base and bucked his hips up involuntarily into the wet heat. 

He slid his fingers out from Dimitri’s mouth just enough to hook them onto his cheek, pulling him gently but insistently forward. His groan was muffled by Dimitri’s mouth, their tongues tentatively seeking out the warmth of the other. 

Adam trailed his wet fingers down Dimitri’s burly chest, dancing down his stomach until he skittered past the edge of his hard, thick cock. That Dimitri was okay with this - getting off on this - was undeniably arousing and he let out a more guttural moan when he felt the wetness that had collected at the head. His other hand went to Nigel’s long dusty blond hair, holding him softly down so he might better feel the back of his throat flutter around his cock.

That these two men, dangerous in their own rights, had softened their sharpest edges just for Adam was a heady, intoxicating rush. He felt high with desire, desperately wanton as he slipped further down the mattress, one hand remaining in Nigel’s hair to help keep his head steady as they all shifted. 

“Fuck my mouth, Daddy?” he suggested with a playful wink, letting his lips part enticingly as he slid his quick, pink tongue over the plushness of his full bottom lip. 

_“Hui, Adam,”_ Dimitri exclaimed, wrapping his hand around Adam’s nape to drag him up for one final, rough kiss, more teeth than anything else, before letting him settle onto the bed, just his shoulders leaning against the headboard, his head the perfect height for Dimitri to sit up on his knees beside him and slap his cock against his cheeks a few times, teasing the boy. 

Adam huffed, his eyes bright with mischief as he wrapped his hand around the thick base of Dimitri’s uncut cock and guided it to his mouth, slapping it on his tongue a few times before enveloping it in warmth. He took Dimitri to the back of his throat with practiced ease, feeling stuffed full already and they were only just beginning. 

“Fuck, that’s filthy, darling,” Nigel observed, licking at the beading pre-come at the tip of Adam’s cock as he looked up at the display. Adam already had saliva frothing around the intrusion in his mouth and slicking his chin as Dimitri started to fuck his throat more forcefully, his hands on each side of Adam’s head, holding him firmly in place and making him take it. 

“Wonder if he tastes as good here,” Nigel pondered, running a dry finger over Adam’s fluttering entrance, the puckered flesh greedy for the touch. 

“The boy tastes good everywhere,” Dimitri said to no one in particular, slamming his hips forward and holding himself deep in Adam’s throat just to feel his muscles pulse around him, watching as tears leaked from the corners of his eyes as Adam kept his gaze firmly on the man above him. Adam loved that he’d brought Dimitri to a level of need that made the man filthy and rough with him.

Nigel wriggled onto his stomach between Adam’s spread open thighs, forcing them even wider with his shoulders as he lifted his hips enough to see between his legs. He leaned forward and gave a tentative lick to the flesh there as he held him open, laughing when Adam tried to moan around the cock in his throat. 

“Think he likes that,” Dimitri was back at his gruelling pace, Adam’s fingernails leaving half-moon marks in the meat of Dimitri’s upper thighs as he clung to him. 

“I like it too, maybe another time,” Nigel laughed when Adam whined, and he nipped at the exposed flesh of Adam’s inner thigh, causing him to jerk his legs together. Nigel kept them held open and took Adam’s still damp fingers into his own mouth and got them even wetter before dragging them between Adam’s thighs and bumping them suggestively against his entrance. “Get yourself ready for us, gorgeous.” 

Adam groaned, immediately reaching down between his legs to push inside with a single finger. The slide from the saliva was poor, but he wiggled it to the knuckle all the same. Satisfaction bloomed over him as he heard Nigel’s breath hitch when he began moving his finger in and out of his hole. 

He pressed another fingertip against his rim, but it was too soon: his ass puckered and clenched, resisting the intrusion. 

“Fucking eager, are we?” Nigel breathed, his head resting on Adam’s upper thigh, face inches from where Adam insistently pressed in. 

Dimitri pulled himself out and tugged on Adam’s open mouth with the head of his cock. It stretched the skin of his cheek and came out with a _pop_ that made him smile down affectionately at Adam. He looked down to admire the way Adam determinedly pushed and prodded at his own hole, willing it to open with minimal prep. 

“Flip onto your stomach. Show him how you open yourself up when you first take me,” Dimitri said, edging backwards to let the boy flip. Nigel raised his brows at the command but shifted smoothly to accommodate.

Adam shimmied his way onto his stomach, pulling his knees up closer to his chest so his ass stood out wide before Nigel. 

“That’s right, _malysh_, open wide,” Dimitri commanded soothingly, rubbing his cockhead on Adam’s cheek. Adam whimpered and set about laying eager kitten licks along the raphe on the underside of his cock. 

Positioning his weight on his shoulders, he reached back with both hands, pulling the cheeks of his ass open wide. Nigel groaned and licked the flat of his tongue against his tight hole. Adam let one cheek go so that he might circle his finger around the hole, then pushed slightly in. His finger hooked and Adam pulled on his rim from the inside, causing Nigel to let out a wanton noise into the slightly agape pucker. 

He could feel Nigel’s hot breath on his hole, his face was so close. He watched him intently as he ran his hooked finger about his rim, making it relax by degrees until he could easily slide two, and then soon enough, three fingers part-way into himself. Occasionally, Nigel would lean so close, Adam would feel the tender edge of his lips, moan at the slide of his wet tongue licking around his buried fingers. 

Dimitri pulled back and stuck several of his fingers in Adam’s mouth, stretching his lips wide and thin around the intrusion. “Gonna stuff you full, Adam, just like you like,” he teased, pulling one of Adam’s fingers out to replace it with one of his own, much thicker fingers. 

“Fuck, Daddy, please,” Adam was writhing between the two men, trapped, speared open, and loving every moment. 

“Which one, darling?” Nigel laughed, spitting filthily on the fingers that currently crowded together inside Adam before teasing one of his fingers around the outer edge of his rim and pushing it in slowly, but with intent. 

Adam groaned, reaching a hand between his thighs to grab Nigel’s wrist, helping to guide him deeper inside. He felt so full but he still wanted more. The fact that Nigel was willing to play, to indulge Adam, only made it even better. 

Adam whimpered, pulling on Nigel’s wrist and trying to scramble between the two men. He needed one of them inside him right now. He managed to get on his hands and knees, waving his pert ass tauntingly at them. 

Dimitri didn’t hesitate to reach out and slap his ass, not holding back at all as he rained down several quick, hard smacks to the exposed skin, turning it a blushing pink. “You’ll take what we give you, boy,” he leaned low to growl in Adam’s ear as Nigel started to scoot forward, bumping his cock messily around Adam’s cheeks, and sliding it along his crack. 

“Wait a fucking minute, eager. You think I’m going to take your sloppy seconds?” Dimitri chuckled, grabbing Adam by the hips and moving him bodily so that his ass was now flush against Dimitri’s groin, his head facing the foot of the bed. 

“Fine by me, old man,” Nigel groused, shuffling so that he was on his knees in front of Adam’s flushed face, his cock mere inches from the already overwhelmed boy’s lips. 

Dimitri didn’t give Adam any warning before he wrapped a warm, wide palm along Adam’s lower stomach, pulling him into a deeper arch and back against his cock. His wet head teased at Adam’s relaxed hole for several seconds before Dimitri helped guide himself in, slamming in all the way to the balls in one thrust. 

Adam cried out, unable to help himself from rocking against the man behind him. As his lips parted, Nigel took the opportunity to slide his cock into the welcoming, open mouth, teeth scraping just slightly on his first thrust in. 

“There we go, my gorgeous cocksucker, you love being used by the two of us, don’t you?” Nigel growled, leaning himself back so his cock jutted up and further into Adam’s open mouth. 

For a time, the sensation was nearly too much and Adam forgot how to give either man the attention they deserved. Taking Dimitri always stretched him full, the burning sensation a comfort that he craved whenever he found himself with less well-endowed men. His mind was so caught up in the tight press of Dimitri into him that his mouth went lax around Nigel’s cock. 

It gave Nigel the opportunity to push past any semblance of a gag reflex and down into his throat, shivering when he felt Adam come to in time to realize he was fully blocked by Nigel’s prick. Nigel smiled coyly down at the boy before grabbing the back of his head and forcefully holding Adam down, buried in him. 

Nigel kept a firm hold with one hand; with the other, he grasped at Adam’s throat, squeezing indelicately to feel the soft protrusion of his cock lodged deep. “Tell me how much you love it, baby,” Nigel sang, his hips making micro thrusts, not letting Adam a moment of reprieve. 

Adam moaned loudly around what speared him, the hum only serving to spur Nigel on further: he let out an accompanying wanton noise as he ground his crotch into Adam’s face.

“Don’t let that boy go limp, now,” Dimitri teased, though his tone held a hint of warning in it. Nigel only laughed and let go, his cock coming out coated in thick strings of saliva. Adam sputtered and coughed. He was finally able to take gasping breaths, but they were sharply interrupted with each one of Dimitri’s brutal thrusts. 

Dimitri rubbed Adam’s ass lovingly, grabbing at a perky globe, and digging his fingers in for better traction. “God, _zvezda moya,_ your ass is heaven.” Dimitri babbled. He was quickly approaching his climax; his merciless pounding into the young boy becoming more frantic as he sought his pleasure. 

Nigel leaned down so his face was level with Adam’s. “Gonna get shot full of hot come now, aren’t you, gorgeous?” Adam groaned eagerly in response; he couldn’t remember feeling this aroused in ages. He wanted to feel Dimitri pulse into him, wanted to have each man take their fill of him without concern for his own pleasure. 

“Mmm, fuck me after?” Adam pleaded, his bright eyes still wet with tears from taking Nigel so deep into his throat.

“Goddamn right I will,” Nigel said through a smile, then planted a sloppy kiss over his beestung lips. Behind them, Dimitri gave a low shout and stilled, pumping his load deep into Adam’s ass. 

Dimitri grabbed Adam’s sweat-matted curls and used his hold to force Adam into a deep arch, his belly touching the mattress and his eyes pointed at the ceiling. He held him there for several long moments, emptying himself inside of the boy’s clenching body with a grunt. 

Nigel stretched out on his back, palming his cock hotly a few times to take off the pressure, watching the display. He leaned forward to put his teeth into Adam’s exposed throat, unable to resist sinking into the vulnerable flesh. 

“Go on, myshka. Give Nigel a nice ride,” Dimitri smacked Adam on his ass, watching as the flesh jiggled just slightly with the impact. Nigel chuckled, spreading his body out on the mattress as Dimitri helped guide Adam’s warm, open body over Nigel’s lap, his thighs bracketing either side of Nigel’s legs as he settled into place. 

“That’s it, baby, sit on my fucking cock,” Nigel snarled, low in his throat, as Adam’s body parted willingly for him, Dimitri’s palms on Adam’s soft, slim hips as he adjusted him. 

Adam let out a soft, overwhelmed whimper, his eyes falling closed for a minute as he got used to the new stretch. Dimitri was thicker than Nigel, but Nigel was longer, his cock already hitting sensitive places deep inside Adam even before they’d gotten properly started. 

He received a slap to his cheek, no malice behind it, simply a warning. “Keep your eyes on me, gorgeous,” Nigel groaned, shifting underneath Adam in a way that caused them both to moan in tandem, Adam because of the sparks of pleasure that skittered across his skin as his prostate was hit, and Nigel as Adam’s body clenched up tight around him. 

They set up a lazy pace, Dimitri’s hands never ceasing in their exploration of Adam’s exposed skin, glancing across his pebbled nipples, fingertips bracketing into the hollows between his ribs, palm spreading wide over his throat as he swallowed heavily, whining in need as each downward thrust of his hips had Nigel’s cockhead glancing off his swollen prostate. 

Dimitri slipped his hands to the curve of Adam’s hips and lifted him until Nigel’s cock was barely clutched at the edge of his rim. Adam whimpered, slamming himself back down and then moving with more fervor, frantically dropping up and down on Nigel’s cock, desperate to have his come too. 

“Come in me, Daddy, please,” Adam bit his lip so hard it turned white, his teeth threatening to draw blood. Nigel traced his fingertips along the bruised flesh of his puffy lips, letting one hand fall to Adam’s thigh as he increased his own pace, bucking up into the pliant boy and chasing his release. 

Dimitri leaned over, pressing his lips gently to Adam’s shoulder. Adam twisted slightly so that he could take Dimitri’s mouth with his own. He steadied himself, raising himself nearly off Nigel’s cock so that he could hammer up into him again and again, using his insides like a slurping wet sheath to get himself off. 

Adam whined, loving how he was simultaneously doused in attention from Dimitri and being used like a play thing by Nigel. His cock ached between his legs, but he wouldn’t touch it. There was something redeeming about the idea of offering himself to the pleasure of the men he’d hurt without getting his own in return. He thought about how much he’d crave them, once Nigel pumped him full up - how he’d want to beg for release, but how he’d force himself to bite his tongue. He groaned at the thought and felt himself slide lower onto Nigel’s cock.

The shift was enough to make Nigel come undone. He grabbed both of Adam’s hips and slammed him down with a loud _squelch_ as his cock slipped smoothly into Adam’s come-soaked hole. He bucked up as hard as he could so that he pulsed his seed deep into Adam’s sensitive ass, where it mingled with the other man’s come. Adam made a sort of whimpering cry, feeling the hot come squirt inside him.

For a long moment, Nigel kept his grip harsh on Adam’s hips, holding him down on his spasming cock. Dimitri littered Adam’s face and neck with soft, sated kisses that tickled his over sensitive skin. His skin prickled with goosebumps and he had to stop himself from letting out another needy whine. 

Dimitri’s hand went down and wrapped around Adam’s red cock, but Adam flinched and moved it away.

“No, I don’t want to,” Adam half-lied. His words came out breathless. Dimitri looked at him, confused. Nigel laughed. 

With some hesitation, he pulled himself off Nigel’s softening cock and immediately felt the slide of the two men’s come along his walls. It dripped down, coating Nigel’s prick and dripping over his balls. Adam looked down, his own cock twitching at the debauched sight. 

Nigel let out a low whistle. “You held all that inside you, baby? God, you must have felt so full.”

Adam nodded voraciously, mesmerized as another thick glob fell onto Nigel’s prick. 

“Well, go on then, gorgeous,” Nigel began, weaving his fingers behind his head to watch, “Use that filthy mouth of yours to clean me up.”

Adam blinked at the request, but Dimitri made a low rumbling noise of approval which was the extra encouragement he needed. He swung his legs over and swallowed Nigel’s dirty cock down. He flattened his tongue against his balls, lapping greedily at the vaguely salty fluids. 

“There’s a good boy. You look so good like that,” Dimitri praised. He ran his hand through Adam’s damp curls, then pushed down slightly to press Adam’s nose into the slick. The two men chuckled appreciatively, watching until Nigel’s cock lay limp and gleaming with only the shean of Adam’s saliva. 

By now, Nigel had his eyes half closed, fighting off a post-coital drowsiness. He motioned with his head for Adam to come up to him, and he did, nestling himself into the crook of his arm. The two of them slotted together so well; memories of the hazy evening after the edibles flashed through Adam’s mind. 

Dimitri must have seen it too, the tenderness in the embrace. He made a move to get himself off the bed, but Adam let out a disgruntled whine.

“Don’t go, Daddy,” Adam whispered. He opened an arm out for Dimitri and waited. 

Dimitri hesitated, as he had when Adam had first reached out to him at the beginning, but this time it took little more encouragement to get him to fold over and return to the bed. Careful not to disturb Nigel, he draped his arm around Adam’s slim torso and the three of them closed their eyes.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Stay with me..."

Alexandros Popescu was not a man to be fucked with. He held less sway than Nigel in most criminal circles, and that made him even more dangerous. Unpredictable and vicious in his dealings, especially with those who had displeased him.

Apparently, Adam had _displeased him._

Adam spat out another wad of blood and saliva onto the worn hardwood floor of his apartment. It had been ransacked over the last half hour by Lorenzo Robini, baby brother to the Robini twins, Francesco and Matteo. Deceased. Killed by Nigel, or by his crew, but at Nigel’s command which was basically the same thing. 

Lorenzo took one look at the come-stained sheets and spit his disgust, stalking back over to where Adam was tied to the only remaining dining chair he had, the rest destroyed either by Nigel in his rage or by Lorenzo as he’d torn through Adam’s house like a furious hurricane. He backhanded Adam across the face so hard, Adam felt his teeth grind together in his mouth and could taste copper in the back of his throat. 

He was fairly certain Lorenzo called him an extremely unflattering Italian slur before he huffed off to stand in the corner of the room, arms crossed and vigilant as Alex drifted back into the room. 

Robini had been tipped off that his missing brothers were dead and he’d come searching for revenge. What he’d stumbled across instead was Adam, getting far cozier with Nigel than was necessarily appropriate. Like most bottom-dwelling criminal types, he’d seized the opportunity to sell Adam out to Alexandros, accusing Adam of double-crossing the man. 

Adam couldn’t even deny it. Even now Dimitri was out in Bucharest looking to kill Popescu. The two men had left Adam earlier in the day after an only mildly awkward morning after, and Adam had just been preparing for dinner when he’d been grabbed and tossed against the wall. Fuck his broken front door. 

“Adam, I am disappointed,” Alex’s lips were pulled down in a moue of annoyance and disdain as he adjusted the hefty ring on his finger before punching Adam. His cheek split on the inside, blood flooding his mouth, and he could feel the skin part around the prongs.

“I told you what happens to failures and traitors. It appears you are both,” Alex sighed, as though it _actually_ pained him to have to hurt Adam. 

“Fucking slut, he betrayed you for a piece of ass,” Lorenzo added spitefully, looking at Adam with disgust. 

Adam looked up at Alexandros through a rapidly swelling eye. “Yes, well, you need to learn how to show a guy a good time, Alex.” He tried to smile through the pain, but sputtered blood instead. 

Robini strung together a slew of words in Italian that Adam wasn’t nearly quick enough to catch the meaning of. The gist translated just fine though. So did the right hook that Popescu threw immediately after. 

Adam’s head flew sideways, nearly toppling him and the chair. He tried to blow his curls from out of his face, with little success. They matted to his forehead with the dampness of both sweat and blood. The pain throbbed through his head, making it feel full to bursting. 

“You were too much a liability, even from the beginning,” Alex cursed himself. “If Gavrie hadn’t vouched for you… I never should have trusted that little _svolach_.”

His left hand went, curiously tender, to Adam’s shoulder. Adam looked at it skeptically, missing the quick way Alexandros reeled back and aimed a punch through his gut. The breath was knocked out of Adam in a tremendous _oof,_ the force of the blow having nowhere to go but vibrating through his torso and limbs. 

“You’ve been useless to me, Towers, and now I know why. You thought I wouldn’t discover?” He mused, walking a half-circle in front of Adam’s chair. He flexed and stretched his bloodied hand, surely feeling the last blow. 

Adam breathed heavily through his mouth. He couldn’t see through his right eye anymore. Still, he straightened himself out as best as he was able and looked in the direction of Popescu. 

“What can I say? You just couldn’t keep my attention,” Adam let another dribble of blood from out of his mouth slide down his chin. “Now Nigel. He’s the real deal. There’s a fucking boss, eh? I think we can all agree on that.”

Adam expected the next punch and braced himself for it. It still landed hard across his face, crushing his nose. A fountain of blood erupted from the break and set him coughing as it dripped down the back of his throat. 

He didn’t know what he was doing, other than buying time. For what? He couldn’t say. He wasn’t supposed to meet up with Nigel until after Dimitri contacted them to say it was done. And Dimitri wouldn’t be back here looking for him any time - 

His self pitying internal monologue was cut short by the whiz and blast of a bullet, screaming through the room and lodging itself in the plaster just inches away from Lorenzo’s head. Another bullet followed, and another, before Lorenzo made a move to duck into the kitchen and pull his firearm. The second and third bullets went wide, but the fourth hit its target, catching the man’s thigh just before he disappeared behind a dividing wall. 

He barely contained a _yelp_ as yet another bullet blew through the back leg of the already teetering chair he was in. He threw all his body weight to the side, managing to topple the chair to the ground to the sound of another bullet whizzing by. 

This time, when he looked up, it was to the jarring image of Alexandros Popescu, shock evident across his face, as he crumpled to the ground beside Adam, a hole very close to the center of his forehead. 

“Fucking finally,” he heard a familiar, gruff grumble from behind him and tried to twist his body in the sea of broken wood splinters, to meet Dimitri’s eyes. The man had never been a particularly good shot. 

Dimitri was reloading his gun, but his eyes flashed to Adam as he cocked the weapon, roving over him as though checking him for any immediate need for attention. Adam covered in bruises and blood felt pretty par for the course at this point, so he tried to smile through the pain. He imagined it was a ghastly sight with his teeth covered in blood and his nose probably broken. 

“You’re fucking dead for this!” A voice shouted from the other side of the dividing wall into Adam’s kitchen. From his vantage point on the ground, he could see a trail of blood leading into the other room. The sheer amount did not bode well for Lorenzo. 

They could hear his hurried, muffled voice filtering in. Both came to the same conclusion at the same time. Adam met Dimitri’s eyes and nodded his agreement. 

Dimitri was careful as he strode across the room, ducking behind the dividing wall and shooting without looking into the room on the other side. His first two shots missed, but the third hit, an accompanying groan and a thud as a body slid down the wall and fell with a heavy _thunk_ against the tiled floor. 

Even from the other room, Adam could hear the phone clatter to the ground. One look at Dimitri showed that it was too late. The call had already connected and someone even now was still hanging on the other line. Dimitri walked into the kitchen, stepped on the phone and shattered it, before going back to Adam’s side and working to release him from the ropes still wrapped tightly around his body, keeping him anchored to the chair even from the floor. 

“We need to find Nigel.”

Dimitri looked decidedly less enthusiastic about the prospect, but nodded anyway. He cut through the ropes with a pocket knife. The sensation came back to his cold hands and feet slowly - he was careful not to stand until the waves of pins and needles subsided. When he did, he held onto Dimitri for more than physical support.

“Thank you,” Adam said, his voice more breathless than it had any reason to be. 

Dimitri wrapped his strong arms around his bloody body, easily accepting more of Adam’s weight. As they stood facing one another, Adam’s chest ached. He leaned in and placed his wet crimson lips softly to Dimitri’s chin. 

“Thank you,” he said again, meaning it more and more. 

A sad smile played against the corners of Dimitri’s lips. His gut wrenched: from having just killed two men, yes. But also because Adam was nearly folded over in his arms, half-limp and heart-eyed. The latter should have made him feel light, should have helped unburden him from the weight of ending the other men’s lives. But even though Adam had kissed him tenderly, he could recognize something unsettled in him. Something that called out to the other man more than to him for comfort. And so it twisted, acrid in the pit of his stomach. 

“The time for romance is later, myshka,” Dimitri said, and he began to lead Adam over to the bathroom to quickly clean him up.

\---

Nigel didn’t answer his phone the seven times Adam tried it on the way over to the club. By the time they came up to the bouncers at the back entrance of the building, Adam’s face was a swollen, tender mess. He could only see swaths of light and dark between the puff of his right eye and his bottom lip protruded at least twice its normal size. Frankly, he was surprised when the bouncer waved him through; he felt unrecognizable even to himself. 

Nigel was in his office, wireframe glasses perched on his nose as he poured over a thick stack of documents. His eyes swept up casually when the door opened, his head jerking up to follow once he processed what he’d seen.

He pushed himself out of the chair and was around the desk and halfway towards Adam in a split second. “Jesus, darling. What happened to you?”

“Lorenzo Robini and Alex,” Adam answered bluntly. He was happy to see Nigel, and he wasn’t going to exam that too closely, his body gone lax and pliant at Nigel’s gentle touch to his swollen, bruised cheek. But just because he was happy to see him didn’t mean he was happy that Nigel’s sloppy business proceedings had caused him a world of stress and pain. 

“I killed the Robinis.” Nigel confirmed what Adam had already been exceedingly sure of, the slight wobble in a few of his back teeth had been enough assurance of the fact. 

“Clearly not all of them.” Adam actually managed to chuckle darkly, almost delirious from pain and the crashing adrenaline in his system. He’d watched Dimitri _kill_ two men. Granted they were two men that would have gladly killed Adam and dumped his body for Nigel to find in order to send a message, but it was still more than he’d ever expected. He wasn’t sure he was handling it as well as his behavior was proclaiming. 

“Baby, I think you’re in shock.” The endearment fell from Nigel’s lips so simply, so smoothly, Adam wondered if he even noticed. Nigel’s hand moved from Adam’s cheek and down his neck, then along his arms and his ribs. Adam hissed in pain when Nigel’s fingertips fitted in the space between his bruised ribs, causing Nigel to pause. 

They shared a moment of eye contact, Adam nodding his head in silent consent, before Nigel slowly and gently pulled Adam’s shirt over his head, examining the mottled flesh along his torso. “Not broken, I don’t think. I could call the Doc -” 

“No. No doctors. Just want to rest and not be poked and prodded by a stranger,” Adam interrupted, wrapping his fingers around Nigel’s searching hand, pulling him by his wrist so that they stood nearly chest to chest. 

Dimitri cleared his throat from the doorway and Adam jolted, remembering that the man had shouldered his way into the club after Adam, refusing to leave his side. 

Nigel looked up, eyeing the other man over Adam’s shoulder. “Did you take care of the fucking trash?” 

“If you have some guys who could go clean up Adam’s house…” Dimitri trailed off, nodding almost absently as he took in the scene before him. Adam looked so small, so content in Nigel’s arms. The way he’d always looked on Dimitri’s lap, or sprawled out in his bed. He shook himself, clearing the thoughts away. Adam wasn’t _his_ and had never been his to keep. The boy was like a son to him; Dimitri, while not exactly happy that he seemingly had chosen a man such as Nigel as a partner, was glad to see his boy so well taken care of and obviously loved.

Even if the two of them were still oblivious to their feelings. 

Nigel gave a curt nod, pulling away from Adam long enough to slip his phone from his pocket and making a quick call in rushed Romanian. “It’ll be taken care of,” he assured after he ended the call, leading Adam over to a worn couch in the corner, riddled with burn holes and stained a nicotine yellow so saturated that it was impossible to tell the original color. 

“I’ll take care of you, then.” Nigel commanded more than asked. 

He motioned for Adam to sit down and looked over to Dimitri. “There’s a kit down the hall in the bathroom.” Dimitri nodded, stealing a quick second glance at Adam and left. 

“What the fuck does Robini want with you?” Nigel asked now, without being able to hide the threatening tone that slipped into his words. Despite the previous night, when he’d been high out of his mind, he was still burned from having trusted Adam - however slightly. That a Robini was looking for Adam when he shouldn’t have a fucking thing to do with the Italians. Well… that didn’t sit well with him.

Adam shook his head wearily, as if reading Nigel’s mind through his expression. “I don’t fucking know, Nigel and I’m too tired to fucking care right now, okay? Just please - I only knew it was him from my research. I promise - Popescu is the only one I’ve had contact with. Him, and Dimitri’s son.”

Nigel chewed his bottom lip, digesting the information. It didn’t make any fucking sense that a Robini would team up with a Popescu, even less so that they’d choose Adam as their target. Unless...

“Robini must have narc’ed on you to Alex,” Nigel said slowly, putting pieces together that didn’t fucking fit. 

Adam rolled his eyes. “Right in one,” Adam yawned, both parts bored and exhausted. Of course Robini had outted Adam. 

“Robini was looking for me and found you,” Nigel continued to explain what Adam had figured out clearly as he was being beaten to a bloody mess by Alex Popescu. Adam had done his share of research: the only reason the Italians and the Russians would work together would be to hurt the Romanians - to hurt Nigel. Adam’s not-so-candid run-ins with Nigel in the club’s alley, surrounded by his colleagues in broad daylight, at his less-than-fortified apartment. He’d given a curious Robini plenty of opportunities to make a connection.

“What if there’s more of them, Nigel?”

Nigel swept a stray curl away from Adam’s swollen eye. “Then we do the same thing we were going to do with Popescu: we hunt em down and we snuff em out. I’m not taking fucking hostages.”

Adam huffed softly and motioned to his mottled body. “Worked like a fucking charm the first time, huh?”

Nigel ran a hand through his ashen blond hair. Even though Adam meant it lightly - as lightly as one could, having been nearly killed - it still stung something in Nigel’s core. He let out a tired sigh and looked up into Adam’s ocean blue eyes. 

“Stay with me.” He decided as he spoke. “Stay at my place, for a while. Your apartment will get cleaned, but it’s a joke. You can’t go back there. Not now. Come home with me?”

Adam sat up straight fast enough that his battered bones creaked and his bruises stretched uncomfortably tight across his skin. He let out a hiss of pain that had Nigel cringing away from him as though he’d been physically slapped. 

Before he could formulate a reply, or even attempt to consider wrapping his mind around such a request, Dimitri reentered the room with the first aid kit. 

He offered the kit to Nigel, but Nigel shook his head in a short motion, walking to the other side of the room to ruffle some papers around on his desk. Dimitri didn’t give him more than a brief consideration before he knelt in front of Adam, assessing the worst of the visible damage. 

“Does anything _feel_ broken, myshka? I’ll give you a tight wrap around your ribs but if they are broken we need a doctor.” He went to work peeling off Adam’s clothes, leaving him in just his boxers. 

“Everything _hurts,_ how would I even know?” Adam tried to joke but it fell a bit flat given the seriousness of their circumstances and the ache the chuckle caused in his ribs 

Dimitri got to work on addressing the open wounds and wrapped him up in a brace around his ribs to encourage him to be easier on them and speed healing. He was preparing to pull out a needle and black thread from the kit to stitch up a particularly deep gouge on Adam’s left cheek when he felt Nigel behind him. 

“Let me do that,” Nigel interrupted, his hand held out. Dimitri raised a brow in question. “I’ve stitched plenty of people up before, old man. Have you?” 

Dimitri _had_ but he could tell this was important to Nigel so he passed him over the materials and shuffled out of the way so that Nigel could take his place in front of Adam. 

“Bend down a bit, gorgeous,” Nigel asked, placing a gentle palm to Adam’s cheek to guide him where he needed to be. 

Adam gritted his teeth, then pulled his bottom lip into his mouth to gnaw at some chapped skin, trying to keep any noises of pain to a minimum as Nigel sanitized the area and began pulling the needle and thread through the bruised, inflamed flesh of his cheek. 

The needle bit into the skin and slid out again. Adam closed his eyes; it was over faster than he expected. He blinked down at Nigel, who kneeled before him, examining his handiwork.

“You should rest,” he said, by way of an introduction back into their previous conversation. 

Adam took in a sharp inhale. “Okay.”

Something glimmered behind his eyes. He let slip a tired half smile. Nigel did the same, running his hand through the mess of bloodied curls.

“Lemme just.. I want to rinse some of this off.” He looked down at his bandaged torso, flecked with red. 

Nigel nodded, getting up. He moved towards his desk, lifting a few pages up to look at the mess he’d abandoned. “Give me ten and we’ll go, alright darling?”

Adam nodded, weary, and slowly got himself off the couch. Dimitri made a shuffling noise with his feet, which served as a reminder. “Dimitri!” Adam announced, embarrassed that he’d nearly forgotten about the other man. “Nigel - talk to him, please? He did what you asked of him. If they know where I am, they know where he is. He can’t go home tonight, either, right?”

Nigel let out of huff of breath but nodded once in acknowledgement. “Go get cleaned up, we’ll sort it out.”

With a half-smile to each of them, Adam made his way down the back hall of the club.

\---

The light was already on in the bathroom when he entered. The same seedy one he’d met Nigel in only days prior. Several beatings and a few bruised ribs ago. It felt like a long, hard century in retrospect. 

He let the door swing closed, walked over to the sink and leaned over the rusted basin. He didn’t want to see himself in the mirror, but he forced himself to look up anyway. 

It was only then that he noticed the extra pair of feet in the closed bathroom stall. 

In a split second, he whipped around and was halfway back towards the bathroom entrance before the stall door smashed open, making him jump with nerves.

“Don’t fucking move,” the voice said behind him, icy and eerily familiar. 

He heard the gun being cocked and knew he was trapped. He felt nearly feral with fear, eyes darting from one corner of the room to the next in an effort to find _any_ escape route. 

“You’ve made quite the mess, Adam. I knew you were a pompous bastard, but I’d never taken you for an idiot,” Gavrie paused, looking thoughtful and pressing a finger to an earpiece hanging from his right ear. 

Adam took the distraction as an opportunity to run, making a mad dash for the door. He’d only just managed to pull it open when a shot rang out, the bullet embedding itself in the crumbling wall just to the right of the bathroom door. 

Gavrie rushed him, pushing his body firmly against Adam’s as he shoved him against the wall. He smashed his gun against Adam’s already swollen jaw, ripping Adam’s stitches open on impact. 

The man behind him was letting off a string of Russian expletives into his earpiece and then Adam was being dragged out the door and they were running towards the propped-open backdoor and crashing through it. 

The cool air was bracing against his bruised, battered skin before he was forced into the back of a black suv. 

There was a sharp prick of pain in the side of his neck as a needle sunk in, and the last thing he saw was Nigel barreling down the hallway towards the empty bathroom, Dimitri a blur right on his heels. And then, everything faded to black.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From both of us, thank you so much for joining us on this wild ride! This isn't the last you'll see of these guys, we love them far too much. More on that in the new year!


End file.
